What Sweet, Bitter Fools are We?
by Dialux
Summary: Arcturus Black did something unprecedented when he realized he was dying- he kept Sirius as his Heir. Walburga Black decides that enough is enough; in order to keep Sirius on a chain she ties him to something she can control. Caelia Derwent is the pawn caught between two unrelenting allies, and she will do anything for control over her own life. Next fic up!
1. Chapter 1: in the beginning

**Oh no! What are you doing, you ask me. Why have you started _another _story when you have- oh, only a couple- three stories still in progress? **

**Well, the truth is, I got this plot bunny about three in the morning the other day. Don't ask me why; my mind works in very, very strange ways. So I got it, and it _wouldn't leave me _alone! So I wrote this- I have another couple thousand words written up so I will be updating this weekly at least for the next month or so. At first, I was going to make this just a really long one-shot, and I still might do that- just combine it all with a bunch of dividers- but for right now I'm keeping it short chapters... :) Let me know how y'all like it!**

**Read and Review.**

**-Dialux**

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><p>Sirius was sixteen and defiant when he walked into his family home.<p>

Hogwarts had gotten out for the summer only hours before, but no one picked him up at the Platform. Furious and alone, he'd stalked off into Muggle London with only a vague idea of what to do, the near-pitying stares of James, Remus, and half the school spurring him on with a vengeance.

It had been a bad idea- but Sirius wasn't known for thinking before he leapt. Or thinking at all, for that matter.

After being near-trampled to death under a car, thrown out of a drinking establishment despite being of age, and soaked to the bone with a sudden rain shower, Sirius had enough. He caught a bus and walked back into his house- not his home, _never_ his home- glaring at the polished silver and heavy curtains with enough venom to set them on fire if he let go of his magic. The dramatic touches left little to the imagination, and the grandeur almost seemed gaudy once one got past the gleam to the peeling edges and faded colors.

The door slammed against the wall, but Sirius paid no heed to it. If he walked to his doom, he'd damn well walk on his own two feet. If it was his mother at the other end of the wand, he'd smile and flaunt his defiance too.

But- nobody was there. The acidic burn of anticipation died stillborn, and the only thing he could hear was voices from down the hall. Sudden fury surprised him in its intensity; Sirius had thought he'd rid himself of caring for his mother's actions years ago.

Obviously, he'd been mistaken.

A crack echoed quietly, and he whirled around, a curse at his lips and wand raised. Large bulbous eyes sneered back at him, and he swore softly before relaxing. Minutely.

Kreacher was his mother's house-elf, but he had hated Sirius from the moment he'd been born. It had never been an even battlefield, though, and Sirius had used every advantage given to him to make the elf regret not smothering him in the cradle. Yet it was the sneers and mutters that bled the deepest, and there was little that could stop Kreacher from doing so- at least not while Walburga remained his true Mistress. It had been just those sneers- same in all but size and color- that had made Sirius target Snape at the beginning, and it was only later the rivalry had developed into a hatred all its own.

"Mistress wishes young Master in the drawing room," Kreacher muttered resentfully, "Kreacher will take the luggage of bad Master to his room."

"You do that." Kreacher snarled soundlessly at the blithe retort, before popping away again.

Returning his wand to its holster, Sirius contemplated avoiding his mother again. With a sigh, he decided it would be one defiance too many, and he had no wish to die before he was out of school.

A warming charm and drying charm took care of his clothes, and a mild cleansing charm eliminated the pungent smell of beer. A last wave, and his appearance was as smoothly charismatic as always- he was ready. When he walked into the drawing room, he had no idea what he was expecting. Aunt Druella, perhaps? She was crazier than even her eldest daughter.

No- there were no screams to be heard.

Instead, there was a delicate-filigreed tea set, and a cheerful fire in the hearth. A young woman sat with her back to the door, and all he could see was elegant hands and a low voice. Sirius shrugged mentally; his mother's schemes had rarely excited him. What did it matter who the girl was? She'd be gone in a few hours. He readied himself to walk away.

Walburga had noticed him before he could slip away, though, and she waved him into the room. Sulking slightly and with no better reason to avoid it, he walked in. Once inside, he could see that the woman really was young, and beautiful, too. Dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, and delicate skin showed only a hint of a flush from the close fire.

She could have been a decades-younger Walburga, and it took all Sirius had to stop himself from flinching. Except for the eyes. Where Walburga had cast-iron grey, the woman had blue eyes, the color of a brilliant summer morning.

"This is Caelia, Sirius." Walburga murmured quietly, just a hint of wicked humor in her voice. "I don't suppose you've met her before?"

Sirius shook his head politely.

"She was betrothed to your cousin, Aidan." His mother snorted inelegantly. "Such a shameful branch of the family. Vela never had any head on her shoulders, and her husband was even worse. Naming their children after his uncle- a Muggle, no less!" Unforgivable to his mother. Worse, really, than almost anything else in her books.

Names meant everything to Magicals.

Names held power, and children were given their parent's names to carry on that power. It was why Blacks named themselves after stars, why Longbottoms after the cities, the Potters after kings. That a family was willing to break that tradition and give their children nothing, was a travesty that was almost as horrible in the Dark as the Unforgivables were to the Light.

Sirius had never even heard of Aidan, not that it was a surprise- he was related to half of all the wizards in England and likely an eighth on the continent- but curiosity still burned in his mind. Who was this girl? And why was it "was betrothed," not "is betrothed"?

Walburga continued. "Had you not been chosen from near birth, why, I'd have snapped you up for Sirius immediately!" She turned suddenly. "Sirius, darling, her betrothed died only a few months ago, and she's looking for a family to take her in. She just finished her NEWTs, you see, so- it's really for the best."

Sirius seated himself on a silk-upholstered chair- the better to rid blood stains- and frowned. He must have missed something, he thought flatly. "What is, mother?" Sirius didn't take his eyes off of her.

"That Caelia is going to marry you as soon as you finish your NEWTs, Sirius."

Silence met the announcement. Then- "_What!" _

It seemed to be the reaction Walburga wanted. She smirked coldly. "You will marry her, Sirius." When he continued to splutter, no control whatsoever, her tolerant amusement faded. "Get _up, _son." He didn't, and she turned away after a moment.

"My apologies, Caelia, but you'll have to excuse my son. Only sixteen, after all." A graceful shrug met her arched eyebrow. "Kreacher will show you out." A wave of her hand called him, and Caelia took her leave quietly, if tensely. Something in her eyes gleamed, undefined and raw, before she turned away.

She hadn't spoken a word to him the entire time he'd been there.

Then Walburga's wand was pressed against his face, and all Sirius wanted to do was run away screaming. Married? He didn't even know her!

_What will James think? _It's a hysterical thought caught somewhere between terror and fury. _What will Remus and Peter and everyone else think!_

"I won't marry her." Defiance shone in thunder-eyes, and Sirius glared up at his mother.

"Yes, you will." Walburga carried deadly viciousness better than he ever could, and it just wasn't fair. "You wish to leave the pureblood traditions, Sirius. And I would have said good riddance." Painted lips pursed. "But Arcturus told in his will that you were to remain Head, if you lived. I'm not letting anyone- _anyone- _sully their soul for the likes of you. You _will _marry this girl, or you will lose your magic." She leaned in fiercely. "Do you understand?"

"_What have you done?" _Sirius whispered, horrified.

His mother touched his shoulder, gently. At his flinch, she cackled. "Only my right by law and custom. I signed an Unbreakable Contract. In your name."

"You can't do that!"

"You'll find I can." Walburga tilted her head gently, a mockery of a mother's concern. "I wanted to bring you back into our world. At least this girl won't have a problem with interference. She should be grateful for the new chance, and you will be brought back to the place you deserve."

In chains, no doubt. Sirius would stand tall as the Head of the House Black and his mother would control every action behind him. He was a puppet bought and sold without a choice, controlled by her strings. She'd brought and sealed the bonds before he knew they existed, and there was nothing he could do now.

Bitter fury welled up inside him.

"I hate you." Sirius stared at his mother, and for just an instant, they were two sides of a coin, one old and the other young, but both similar in all the ways that mattered.

Walburga nodded calmly; she'd won this battle.

All Sirius knew was that she would rue this day for the rest of her life.


	2. Chapter 2: a loveless marriage

They're married the day Hogwarts gets out, and it rains sheets around them. Lightning splits the sky when she and Sirius kiss, and all she can think is that it was a mistake. Their marriage is a farce, and the perfection behind the silver gilt and Black grandeur (pun intended) is sugar-spun and peeling.

Thunder shakes the ground on their first dance, and she twists her ankle, though she knows she'll never tell a person about it.

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><p><em>Weak, fragile little Caelia Derwent, second daughter of Jasper the Wand-Worthy and sister of Cassiopeia the Magnificent. Whispers follow her all her life, expectations and aspirations that she'll not only meet her sister's brilliance but outshine her.<em>

_Caelia would have been happy as a housewife._

_Their mother had died giving birth to her, and their father had never managed to really look at her face after she turned seven and began looking like her mother reborn. Cassiopeia, though, had their father's scarlet hair and his temperament, though she had been devoted to him as only a fanatic could be. He had trained her from birth to follow in his footsteps and deepen them- though never to outshine him._

_Caelia had watched quietly as her sister outstripped their father quicker than anyone could imagine. She had been seven when their father killed her in a drunken rage, and smart enough to hold her tongue throughout the ensuing investigation._

_Her father had wept false tears at Cassie's funeral, and Caelia had been disgusted with his duplicity. When he tried to teach her to duel, she refused viciously. Two years later, he died of alcohol poisoning, and she shed no tears for his death. Caelia was told at the tender age of nine of her betrothed, a young man from Southern Wales._

_The boy had been cruel in all the ways that mattered to a young woman, careless and vicious. He'd hugged his mother closely, and watched his father jealously. Any affection for others in the family had withered as quickly as it had blossomed._

_Then he'd left for Hogwarts._

_The day he returned she'd known he was different. The childish innocence had dimmed, replaced with a different kindness she couldn't help but admire. That summer had been one of laughter and sunshine, and even now she's sure that's when she fell in love._

_He was three years above her, and as time passed she only became more devoted to him- quietly but surely. The kindness she was capable of was pulled out of her like a magician's scarves only when he was there; others commented only on her porcelain perfection._

_She loved him, and would have done anything, anything in the world for him. Love- she had always believed- was a mysterious thing, and so it'd taken her well over three years to recognize the symptoms. When she had, she'd been giddy for the first time in her life._

_Then he'd died, only three months before their wedding._

_Amidst black letters and cream parchment she'd wept silently, and pulled on a mask for the rest of the school. Slytherins were watchful for weakness, and Caelia's position was precarious enough. But it still hurt, to pretend not to care, to feign shallow regret and vain self-absorption, when it was still painful to breathe and nights were torn ragged with vague nightmares._

_Aidan had been the only one to know the strength of her will, steel hidden under silk and enamel well enough that the mask had seemed real enough by the end of her education. The façade had helped well enough in its own way- without it she'd never have landed Sirius Black- but what had terrified her more than anything was failure._

_Failure before had meant, at the most, silence from Aidan for a day, perhaps two. Now- the stakes had been raised high enough that whoever fell off first was going to die. Who was she to play these games? Failure measured in blood and pain wasn't failure but terror, and she knew she wasn't good enough to do what the people around her had done for centuries._

_Nevertheless, she had no choice._

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><p>James Potter stands first, delivers a speech bright with humor and shining a burnished gold. Caelia smiles wanly, clapping calmly beside her twice-drunk husband. She knows she's beautiful in these robes, china-white and pearlescent as they are, but she can't claim to ignore that his eyes have wandered away over the course of the night.<p>

Anger spurts within her, and she wishes he'd pay attention to her- it's her wedding day, for God's sake!- but she knows the protest will only seem childish if it escapes. Her hand closes around a stem of champagne glass, and she's tempted to throw it back in one gulp. Reason filters through moments before she follows through with the action; she's the only thing keeping this from becoming a public farce instead of a private one. The second she lets go the wedding will become a debauchery, and Walburga Black will stop at nothing for her revenge.

Caelia doesn't want to join Aidan just yet.

Others give speeches too, but none stand out- they're all bland and rehearsed. The humor is well-worn, and the turns of phrase bland. She allows herself self-pity for a moment, then murmurs a quiet but clear "I wish to retire," to Sirius.

He freezes, then nods woodenly; he knows what will happen next. A small part of her relishes his humiliation, petty though it may be. The speeches are cut short, and seven women escort her from the hall to a room in her new home. They strip her- and she knows she blushes a brilliant red at their criticizing gazes on her naked body- and bathe her. She lies, naked on a bed of swan feathers, waiting for her husband and their wedding night.

Sirius walks in, and his eyes widen at the sight of her against the bed.

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><p>Their love is fierce.<p>

Or, rather, it is Sirius who is fierce, and Caelia who follows him. Bruises pepper her skin by the time he's finished, and all she wants to do is weep bitter tears at the end. There's none of the love she'd expected, only a furious ache deep inside her. _This is love?_ She almost asks. But no one would hear her, and even if they did, no one would want to listen.

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><p><strong>Well, everybody, here's the second chapter! They'll stay this long, roughly, because I want to keep up with writing and the updates as evenly as possible. Anyways, in the next chapter we will be talking about Sirius' betrayal as well as the furthering of their marriage... I am aware that this chapter would have probably been better rated M, but it's really only this chapter and the next one that could be rated this way. Hope you enjoyed it.<strong>

**See you next time!**

**Read and review.**

**-Dialux**


	3. Chapter 3: Woe is me, for I am Undone!

The terms of the contract are clear; bear children over ten years or lose your magic. Caelia doesn't forgive him his actions, though, and he turns away in disgust by their first anniversary. He visits her bed once a week and the rest of the time they sleep in separate rooms; it takes three years for Caelia to get pregnant for the first time.

Being married to a member of the Order of the Phoenix is difficult at the best of times- it's far worse to be considered the only person yanking Sirius to the traditionalist school of thinking while he's no dog to be pulled on a chain.

During Order meetings- Sirius has offered their home as a base of operations- she spends time with Andromeda. Two Slytherins, united only by chance and oaths, they swap horror stories about pregnancy and husbands. The wariness of the others is an unintentional insult, and Caelia can see Andromeda's hands itching for her wand some days. She doesn't say anything though- silence is the only way to get through these times, and it isn't like she's that much better either.

Despite all of that, the uneasy silence from the kitchen when she walks in to get some wine- her own _kitchen- _is wary. They cut off their words and avoid her gaze, and she feels almost ashamed of having entered. Irritation and fury well up in response. How dare they use her home and make her feel guilty at walking in it?

She never says a word to Sirius.

He's weaving miracles in the outside world, but all that truly matters to her is that when she tells him she's pregnant he barely acknowledges her. Furious rage and hurt froth to the surface- her wand is in her hand and she almost curses his back before reality again catches up to her. Cursing him will only result in her own death; he's not yet the Head and she can't afford to be cast out of the only home she has.

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><p>Caelia is two months pregnant when Walburga dies. Orion- Sirius' dad- has died years before, and Regulus is a younger son. The duties of funeral coordinator are Sirius'.<p>

The glee on his face sickens her.

Instead of letting him ruin his mother's image- the woman was cruel and petty but still. She's his _mother, _and that has to count for something- she does it herself. The preparations are grand, and the day Walburga is cremated, it's almost blasphemously bright. Forget-me-nots are placed on her grave instead of the lilies Walburga had always favored, and birds twitter symphonies that drown out the somber orchestra. Caelia kneels carefully and positions her bouquet- it's only in her death that she's willing to do this- on top of them all. To a witch, it was something given normally; nothing was strange. To a Muggle- this will mean something to someone, she's sure.

Bird's Foot Trefoil, color-bleached and white, will regain its vibrant gold once more- in a few hours.

Revenge is a singularly Slytherin concept, and there is nothing said of respecting the dead in the honor of Purebloods.

Duplicity- there's a lot of that.

To a witch, it says only what a dutiful daughter-in-law should say, platitudes worn with time and respect rather than meaninglessness. To a Muggle, it says everything she's wanted to say since she got married.

_Fuck you, _in terms as alien to Purebloods as magic is to Muggles.

Chains loosen that once held her bound to the code of honor, leashed as they were to Walburga. The dead hold no power in their world, and oaths cannot be passed down from father to son- or in this case, mother to son. Caelia feels the heady surge of power and can barely keep the smile from lighting her face; it's the first time she's had more control than those around her.

It's the first time those leashes have not been around her neck.

Seven months pass in relative harmony- Caelia has little to do and everything to lose the moment she steps out of the protections of the Black Manor in Lincolnshire. Her unborn child lessens her- not unformidable- skill in dueling. She holds her wand tight, though, when she hears of the demise of the Macdonalds and Bones, and prays desperately to gods she doesn't believe in to keep her fledgling family safe.

The rush of relief when Sirius comes home unscathed every night is surprising both in its intensity and its suddenness. It is perhaps that that has led to this decision- to this madness- to attend the annual Order Christmas party.

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><p>She wonders scathingly if anyone understands the meaning behind her gown- is it recognized as the challenge it is, or is it ignored in the Light's rejection of all the old traditions? Her scorn isn't ignored in Andromeda's eyes, however, and the careful respect there humbles her pride.<p>

At least someone recognizes the pain behind the shadow.

The night is dull, though, with little drama and less cutting remarks, as she's used to in pureblood balls. The only person to speak to her is Andromeda, and there is even less that she can say without being overheard and insulting to the people around her. Her mind wanders as Andromeda chatters and a rush of exhaustion weaves through her. Cutting her off- they're friends, no matter how much both would deny it, and rudeness is acceptable up to a point- she encircles the bulge carefully. Messages can be passed, as any smart person knows, but a common language is needed. In this case, it is pregnancy.

Hiding weakness, after all, is not a Gryffindor trait- much as many would wish it were so.

"Of course," Andromeda said quietly. "I'll make your excuses."

Caelia smiles wanly. "I'd love to take you up on it, but few would miss me here." A bitter truth- if an understatement. Who would miss the wife of Sirius, who shines with a brilliance as undeniable as his star?

Who would miss her, when there are people they truly love only a stone's-throw away?

"I'll go find Sirius." She nods decisively. "He ought to know I'm leaving…" She trails off, knowing the gaps in the sentence fill with uncomfortable revelations, but shoving them deeper for now. She's a devoted wife with no other ambition according to these people- the contempt in Lily Potter's eyes, almost unconscious and buried deep- but still there- scalded her when she'd recognized it for what it was.

The answering fury had- just barely- been controlled.

To them she's a trophy wife- albeit an unwanted trophy. No mind, less heart. Never even talk about the soul.

She wonders if they ever checked her NEWT scores. Or do they base their assumptions on prejudice when even the staunchest purebloods are trying to improve?

The question is for another time. She moves across the room cautiously, and slips down the hallway she's seen Sirius take a few hours ago. It's dark, here, the sconces on the wall dimmed almost purposely by magic.

"Homenum Revelio," she murmurs, careful to keep her voice low. People wouldn't want to be disturbed, and barging in would surely do that. At the notice that two people were behind the next one, she waves her wand smoothly, nonverbally dismantling the muggle lock on the door. It swings open slowly, and the scene inside is from one of her worst nightmares.

Sirius is kissing Marlene McKinnon, and there are clothes strewn around the room, as if a whirlwind has crept in unnoticed. What is worst of all, however, is the passion in his gaze. It doesn't shift, doesn't move, and is locked on Marlene like a hunter watches its prey.

The hunger there makes her sick to her stomach.

The keen that rips from her throat is high and wounded, and she feels an almost-stab wound in her lower abdomen. She drops to her knees, eyes locked on the now-frozen tableau, and only one word resonates in her mind.

"Forsworn," she whispers brokenly.

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><p><strong>Yep. I did exactly what everybody didn't want me to do. I made Sirius unfaithful...<strong>

**Also, to anyone who likes this kind of thing, if anyone can tell me where the chapter title comes from, I will write a small gift- of their choice- for them:)**

**That isn't really a bad thing, though, in my opinion. Sirius has proven to be loyal in the books- to James, Remus, etc. But he's also proven that when he doesn't feel that loyalty to someone, he _really _doesn't feel that loyalty. Maybe it was different before Azkaban, but somehow I doubt it. (*cough, sends Snape to the Whomping Willow, cough*) Sirius, here, doesn't give a damn about Caelia- she's the person his parents have chained him to. She's also not that great at anything; I'd assume that he was so good-looking he could get any gorgeous girl he wanted. She is, in fact, the exact opposite of what he would, or could, want from a wife.**

**I've been getting a bunch of PMs, by the way, about this one.**

**1. I did change the title; "Love for the Ages" just sounded a little cliche to me.**

**2. Severus will become a _very _important character in the next few chapters. Really looking forward to writing the interactions between him and Sirius:)**

**3. Caelia and Sirius will not stay together. There will be about seven more chapters (around) before that is even _close _to happening, so anyone who wants them to stay together, never fear- you can still read this fic!**

**Also, I know I seem like I'm bashing Sirius. Later in the story, I will bash pretty much everyone from the Light (Albus, you better watch out!) but what I'm trying to explore in this story is a dichotomy in the beliefs of the Light side and the "good" side. Harry will still be the BWL, don't worry, but this time- I'm hoping- Lily and James stay alive.**

**So there will be some fluff, but this fic will revolve around Caelia, Sirius, Severus, and maybe Andromeda or Lily.**

**Final note: I've gotten so many PMs for this one, but absolutely no reviews! I'd love to see a mixture of both...**

**Read and Review,**

**-Dialux **

**(God, this was a monster of an AN, wasn't it?)**


	4. Chapter 4: a new life

Others crowd around her now, but the horror has been seen. Perhaps another person could have ignored it, but Caelia cannot. The pain and shock have caused cramping, and she curls around herself desperately trying to lessen it.

Andromeda is there in the next breath, hair falling wildly and wand raised. At the sight before her, she freezes, then drops to her own knees and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Shhh," she croons softly. At the answering wail, she drops the comfort and goes for a blunt reaction that is more soothing than any sugary condolences. Here is the mediwitch who had saved lives- the one that tells Caelia, silently, that she won't die today. "Where's the pain?"

Her hand reaches, waveringly, to her stomach. "Please, Andy." Their eyes meet, and the pleading there softens Andromeda stern visage.

"Of course."

The silent conversation baffles many around them, at least until Andromeda sends a wave of spells that makes Lily Potter stumble forward drunkenly, eyes wide in shock. "What are you doing!"

"Stabilizing her." Andromeda doesn't dare spare more than a glance at her. "She has to be transferred to St. Mungo's." A final wave, and she wraps a hand around Caelia's wrist. "She's having the baby."

The apparate away, leaving only thin air where they once stood.

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><p>Silence met Sirius when he walked out of the room- someone had had the decency to close it while he and Marlene dressed- and it made him uneasy to see everyone avoiding his gaze as they had.<p>

Even James was, for heaven's sake! He knew it wasn't because he had cheated on his wife. Nobody could deny that he was a good-looking man, and his mother's chains had only bound him until her death. Faithfulness was overrated in his opinion- a man had needs, after all, and if one's wife wouldn't assist him he had to find others who would.

Sirius had always been strong.

That strength meant that he loved women who fought back in bed, who would resist as much as he tried to break them. It was the breaking that he enjoyed more than anything- and Marlene had never broken in all the time he'd lain with her.

Caelia had broken before he'd touched her.

The bruises whenever the slept together hurt something inside him, and he hated that feeling with a passion. Whenever after, he took care to control himself- but that didn't rid the need inside of him. Marlene was as vicious as Sirius was harsh, and the love he'd felt for her was as tarnished as midnight-silver. There was nothing about them other than sex, but that was enough for him.

Now, though- "James?" The query in his voice seemed to make something in him shrink slightly away at the averted face.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"What's going on?"

Lily broke in. "Your wife is having a baby." The banked indignation in her eyes gave way to a scorching fire, but before it could reach him James touched her shoulder.

"Calm down, love. He only-"

"Only what, James?" Lily hissed furiously. "He was… was _dallying _around when his wife was _pregnant! _How can you _defend _him!"

Sirius flushed red.

"He's my brother," James said firmly, as if that answered everything.

Lily snorted. "And does that mean he can't make mistakes?"

"No, but-" James began.

"No buts, James. Sirius didn't make a simple mistake. He made a huge one. His wife, she could be dying right now." At Sirius' shock, she nodded. "Andromeda wouldn't have looked so worried if there was nothing to worry about." Turning to him, she said simply, "Go to the hospital."

Sirius went.

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><p><strong>Hi Everyone! I'm back... a couple days early, too. This one is about half the other chapters, yes, I know. I'm trying to divide this up, though, and you can expect the next one to be about the same length as Chapter 1.<strong>

**Yes, it is a filler chapter, basically meant to address the reactions of the last chapter. I know I left all of you on a cliffhanger, and as an apology, this is a couple days early:) **

**In the next chapter, you should see the interactions between Caelia and Sirius, as well as the mysterious baby...**

**Severus doesn't come in until a bit later, but don't worry. He will, quite quickly, become a central figure, and if I get a couple reviews- why, I might even be inspired to add a scene from Severus' POV next chapter (*GASP*)**

**Reviews inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	5. Chapter 5: dreams-or nightmares?

Caelia is in a fog.

Numbness surrounds her- pain and a dulled fright is hovering a couple feet away. All she wants is to let go, to slip into the rushing darkness under her feet; a river swimming with silvered souls. Death waits for her there, she knows, and it is only the small stones under her feet that support her.

As she watches, they shrink further, in perfect concord with a spike in the pain. Her involuntary shriek is muffled by the almost-tangible fog, and the numbness recedes for a bare instant- the stones grow to form a bridge- but in the next they are smaller than ever before.

_Sirius. _The voice is haunting, the melody soothing. _Forsaken. _Weariness dusts her hands with glossy webs and she is an inch away from stepping into the water when-

-a cry is heard.

It is high and wailing, but it must be- there is only one thing it _can _be- the one thing she's always wanted.

A child.

Someone to belong to her, whom she can love and love and give everything she has, and not a soul in all the world will dare tell her it is too much.

She makes up her mind a moment later, abandons the desperate fall. She struggles out of the sticky webs, wiping them on her skirt. There is little she knows about this place, other than it is dangerous even to the prepared.

Caelia isn't prepared.

But she _has _read stories about those forced or locked into their unconscious, like Branwen the Mighty and Penelope, wife of Odysseus. There is only one way out of the unconscious, where everything is as real as your mind perceives it, and that is the dust of Hades, which transports a person to the physical world.

Only problem is, it's different for every being.

It could be a poppy flower's pollen, as it was for Branwen, or a loom that needs to be crushed, as it was for Penelope. But the one thing a person needs to fight their way out of the fog is determination, and that-

-she's not completely sure she has it.

She has to try, though. She doesn't have a choice.

So she kneels, careful and cautious, until she is touching with one hand the stones and the other the river. Her will slowly builds, so very painfully slowly- and with it the stone lengthens too. A sob catches in her throat with desperation, but she must go outside, must reach for- _it_.

Her child is an it, and not a him or a her. Hatred rises against Sirius and her own helplessness, before it is seared to ash in the numbness around her. Fury burns away, too, but she has felt it for an instant and it is a clean scalpel against the fog.

Her child awaits her.

* * *

><p>She is against the bank, determination and love giving her handholds when none ought to be there.<p>

She is climbing fast, nails ripped with blood but caring nothing for it.

She is on the top, and there is not a moment to lose because her child is out there with no one to care for_- it_.

An obelisk stands in the middle of the field she has dragged herself onto, and it thrums with vitality. She thinks nothing of leaping forward, seizing its gold capstone and crushing it under her heel- as Branwen did when caught in the Otherworld.

This is her monster-land, and she will never succumb as long as her child awaits her.

* * *

><p>Caelia's eyes blink open slowly, white-washed walls and mint scent coming into focus.<p>

_Ow. _It _hurts, _to visit the unconscious mind and return so suddenly- after all, she hadn't exactly had a choice in the matter in either direction- and she hadn't tried to make either time particularly gentle. _How'd I get in _St. Mungo's?

The pain fades, though, and takes along with it the confusion. Her body aches against the pallet as the wounds her mind says she _should _have conflict with the wholeness of her physical body; it will fade in time. That she is _alive _is more than she expected when she found herself locked in her unconscious.

Doctors bustle around her busily, and she tries to move, to say _something_ to alert to them that she is alive and not comatose. Once, twice, thrice- each time nothing happens. Impatience bubbles up, letting the exhaustion fade as a belated auto-healing charm steps in, and her own magic yanks her to consciousness.

"Where is my child?" She croaks.

The doctors freeze, looking at each other, then slowly at her. They stand dumb, amazed at this recovery that should have been death; Caelia would snicker at the looks on their faces but it hurts to move and she can't quite stop herself from screaming her impatience at them. Before she can, though-

-Andromeda steps forward slowly, unbelievable hope rising, cradling the precious bundle in her arms. "Here you go, Caelia." Pride blazes in her eyes, and it is all Caelia can do to accept the burden- she doesn't even notice Andromeda sending the doctors away and closing the door.

It is a girl, with hair the black of ebony sun and eyes the silver of a harvest moon. Caelia loves her at first glance, feels her heart skip a beat and then wrap around this little, tiny girl who represents the first thing she's done with no thought of a reward. _Conceived for duty, borne in annoyance, brought in love. What more shall you give me, little one?_

Love, she thinks, for Aidan has never been this deep or pure as it is with this girl- it is unconditional. Love with Sirius cannot even be compared.

Who the hell is she to have made someone so perfect?

"Cassia," she whispers into the silence around her. "Her name is Cassia."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Andromeda touches her shoulder gently.

"Thank you, Andy," Caelia says softly. "For everything."

Andromeda tilts her head slightly, acknowledging it gracefully. "It was nothing more than what a friend would give."

"More," Caelia disagrees. "Do you think another would have done the same?" They both know whom she's referring to.

"Anyone worth their honor." Andromeda smiles.

A knock, brash and loud, comes from the door. Caelia's smile fades, and she stiffens sharply, glancing at Andromeda for help. Her arms tighten over her daughter, and she buries her head in the blankets. When she straightens, her eyes are narrowed in determination. "Open it," she whispers.

Andromeda squeezes her shoulder, refusing to argue, then- "Aperit." It swings open smoothly.

Sirius barges in, hasty as ever, and Caelia's shoulders tighten. "Sirius." The chilliness of her voice doesn't seem to faze him- indeed, it makes him more determined.

"The doctors said you gave me a…" He stutters to a halt.

"A daughter." Caelia raises an eyebrow coldly. "Her name is Cassia."

The right to name a child is a father's; a mother's duty is to bear it. That Caelia named her daughter is an affront to the traditions she bears and Sirius scorns- but she wonders dryly if he even knows his duty has been usurped.

The muted fury in Sirius' eyes belies the mild tone, revealing the knowledge and insult she's given. "May I see her?"

She raises Cassia, positioning her so her face is visible, and looks away pointedly when he leans forward. "I'm tired." Her face is blank. "I shall see you tomorrow, Sirius." His name is bitter poison on her lips.

He nods quietly, retreating behind a mask of glass and shadows- even he will not threaten her on her childbed.

Andromeda watches him go, but the disapproval and betrayal- a betrayal he sees in Caelia's eyes as well- seems to chill something deep inside, as much as her silent defense warms Caelia. Without another word, he strides out of the room, refusing to let anyone see the pain he's sure is carved into his face.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone...<strong>

**I'd just like to thank all my reviewers- I know that something is up with , and they haven't displayed any of the reviews I've received for this story; my friends just let me know this morning and I decided to check it out.**

**It should be fixed (hopefully soon) and you should see them come up soon enough. Nevertheless, I wanted to thank all of you, and let you know that I really am appreciative and inspired by your kind words.**

**Some people did raise some pertinent questions, though:**

**1. Bookwyrm: Caelia doesn't really know Sirius. She hasn't taken the time- not that he has, either- to get to know him, and it shows in her reactions to him. She wants to love him, because she knows that it's likely the only sort of happiness she can have. She tried to make that decision, and had told _herself _that she had done so; she thinks/hopes she's happy with being Sirius' wife and Andromeda's friend. She's surprised because she wanted to believe he was better than he actually was, and sadly, that didn't happen.**

**2. lakshita: I'm sorry, but I don't really go in for slash stories; I'll read them if they're _really _good, but to date I've only come across one or two that are on this site. If you haven't read it, Lightning on the Wave's Saving Connor is not to be missed, but that's Harry/Draco slash. Sorry, but it doesn't seem really all that realistic to me for the two _hated _enemies to suddenly fall in love, and rape just doesn't fit well with me.  
><strong>

**I do prefer PMs, though, if you have an account on , so I can do this without actually taking up space on the chapter; I guess it's better than nothing, right?**

**Some other things in this chapter (yes, I know it's a little confusing) are that Caelia's forced pregnancy led her to one of the failsafes of a witch's/wizard's magic- their unconscious. In this fic, it takes _determination, _above all, to make it out of there alive, and the thing that gives that determination to Caelia is her daughter.**

**The others I've mentioned are from classic English literature and the Odyssey. The dust of Hades is a veiled reference to Percy Jackson, to those who caught it from the first movie.**

**Again, I'd like to thank all my reviewers and let them know they inspire me. This chapter is dedicated to you!**

**Next chapter we'll have baby Harry, Voldemort, and a badass Caelia!**

**-Dialux **

**(If the AN's keep getting bigger than the actual story I'm going to have a problem, aren't I?)**


	6. Chapter 6: new life, hard death

Caelia wasn't furious at him.

She didn't throw him out of their home, or confront him with her new knowledge; indeed, she barely saw him at all. They slept in separate beds, after all, and the rooms were distanced so he never knew what she did- or didn't- do.

It was the only thought in his mind, that his wife wasn't even deigning to _look_ at him.

It crept up, sometimes, in the middle of the day. At others, want-no, need- for Marlene threatened to overcome him. He wanted someone to be broken with, someone who wouldn't weep at the cuts that came from enveloping him but would embrace the pain as much as the pleasure he gave. Marlene, painted garishly bright and sneering at anyone in sight, was the perfect person.

Yet Caelia didn't seem to see it that way.

She avoided him expertly, not in her room even at six in the morning and into the nursery more than fifteen hours a day- there came a time when he knew that she wasn't adoring their child but avoiding him.

She knew that he wouldn't see their daughter's face.

He saw his history.

The grey eyes were the liquid remnants of Bellatrix's childhood- a childhood Sirius remembered only with hatred and disgust. The only emotion he felt when he looked at their daughter was remorse and a slight hint of regret; he knew that- despite everything that had happened- he wouldn't stop seeing Marlene.

That tentative resolve was shredded when he showed up on Marlene's doorstep, only to have her throw him the most _contemptuous _sneer, as if she couldn't believe his arrogance.

"You'd come here, _here, _after you fucking got _caught?" _She asked incredulously. "By your _wife?"_

She wouldn't let him back into her life; James _couldn't_ let him back into his- not without Lily lambasting him- and Caelia didn't even look at him. Remus and Peter weren't even the actors in Sirius' play anymore; they were cut free of their strings.

All save one- suspicion.

_Where did Remus go, every night, after Order meetings? Why was it impossible to catch him?_

_Why did he doubt his _brother _in all but blood?_

He knew the answer- his daughter. Fury directed at her swirled under him, and he felt like the only thing holding his silence was that he didn't know how Lily- who _fucking _controlled James- would react. After all, she had fallen in _love _with Caelia after the fiasco with Cassia's birth, and she was constantly _pestering _him into talking her into bringing Cassia to their home.

How can he tell her that he has spoken more to the receptionist at the Auror office than to his own _wife?_

* * *

><p>When Harry was born, it was the happiest day of his life.<p>

Lily wouldn't throw him out because she was too tired and too dopy; the birth had not been _easy_- and James was so ecstatic he named Sirius Harry's godfather without a second thought. Some part of him criticized James- _wouldn't he fight with his wife- _but the larger part just accepted the pen and signed with gusto.

Now, even Lily won't give him the cold shoulder.

A question, faint and maudlin, tenuous as paper string, formed in his mind moments after he'd signed- w_ho are Cassia's godparents- _but it was cut off with the enthusiastic arrival of Remus and Peter. The questions haunted him later, in the middle of the night, and he was absolutely sure that it was only the celebratory champagne and sneaky Firewhiskey that James passed around that made him so maudlin.

There was a heavy stone in his stomach, too, thinking of all the people lined up to greet baby Harry now, while for his daughter there was only bare linoleum walls and steel appliances. Andromeda hadn't even met him outside, and there was no alcohol to be hinted at.

_What bitter, sweet fools are we? _Sirius leaned his head back carefully. _To believe in love. Or a maker. Or- hell, in something better than what we have right now. My daughter was born down the hall, and nobody even gave a damn. She's the thrice-damned _Heir _to the Black family, and nobody was there for her. This kid- he has barely _anything. _And he has enough people coming to see him to shame a prince._

There were a few people who weren't there- he couldn't deny it. Andromeda, for one. Marlene, Caelia, Harry's _grandparents..._

The war had had a high toll on everybody. It had ripped Harry's grandparents from him before he'd been a thought in his mother's eye- and Sirius could only blame Death Eaters for that. There were times when he wanted to shed enough blood to form a river, times when he wanted to rend the world in half when he saw his Lily hug her unborn son tightly, Peter pale and thin in patched-through robes, Remus worn ragged from speaking to the werewolves; he'd see James finger his wand a tad more ferociously than usual, and he'd follow him through hell and back for that loyalty._  
><em>

He'd won that unthinking trust _years _ago. He'd be damned if it all went to waste now, because of his pride.

Standing, he moved easily through the crowd of well-wishers, to stand by James' side. Leaning close, he muttered, "I need to talk to you. Can you get away from them for a second- or two?"

"Sure." The immediate agreement warmed Sirius, and he flashed a quick, heart-breaker smile over his shoulder.

Later, in a closed, warded closet- Sirius thought wryly that plans this big and this dangerous should have been done in places like Albus' office, grand and domineering; not this half-baked excuse for a room that was only safe because _no one would guess _the importance of what was said- that was dimmer than a Slytherin bathroom-

_Ha. Ha. I'm so funny._

- he said quietly, "I think Peter should be Secret-Keeper."

* * *

><p>A year and a half pass, and Sirius crashes into Godric Hollow with all the desperate strength of family unbroken. He enters the hallway, only to see James cradling Remus' body, holding him close and sobbing furiously. Lily holds Harry in her arms looking shocked and pale, like a specter not quite yet dead.<p>

"What- what happened here?" The wand droops to the floor, curses dying stillborn.

_No. No! Not Remus! Not Remus. He was _happy.

And Remus had been. Dating a girl from Germany, a long-distance relationship that gave a new life to him; a new job that put food on the table and robes on his back that weren't second-hand and torn through; a brightness in his eyes and hope in his body that Sirius couldn't remember being present ever before. That it was ripped from him _now, _when everything was going _right-_

- it hurt.

"What do you think, Sirius?" Lily's face looked up at him, voice snapping like crackers on a Christmas morning. "He gave himself _up _for Har- ha-" Her eyes raised to meet his, furious and grief-stricken at once. "For Harry."

He nodded once. They couldn't _afford _this, and all of them knew it. Pain and grief had erased that knowledge, but Sirius could not let the Dark rip more away from him than what he had. _Would _not.

He waved his wand once, leaving marks that only Albus would see. Magic left its own mark on the world- but only the powerful could see it. Albus was one of them.

"We have to go." James raised his head, tear-tracks gleaming silver-bright on his cheeks, and Sirius' heart clenched. _He should never look like that. _Never.

Sirius nodded. "Come on. I'll apparate you."

Hurrying, they escaped into the ocean-side hut that had been designated a safe house for Lily, James and Harry. Sirius joined them, slumping against walls and moldy furniture- they'd chosen the house not for its beauty but its remoteness- boneless with relief. Later, Sirius knew he would feel regret and remorse, self-pity and hatred over his doubt over Remus' loyalties, but right then, Harry was alive. His family- most of it- was okay. If thinking about Remus made him angry, though, Peter just _hurt._

Because he knew that, no matter what, he would hunt him to the ends of the earth, now.

* * *

><p><strong>All right! I'm back- with chapter six. This is actually a couple days early, I know, and I said I'd keep Caelia and was looking forward to adding Severus next chapter, but I had this written out. Then, I just began expanding on some ideas, and it went on, and on, and on...<strong>

**Good Lord! It didn't really cover everything I wanted to cover, but I'm changing the format of the next couple chapters now, and I should know soon? Don't hurt me! Please?**

**Lakshita: Oh, I'm so sorry! Ummm... Spellcaster, by SGCbearcub, is a wonderful one, though it's rated M and is a little graphic in terms of sex; that's really the only one I can think of right now. It's a Severus/Hermione marriage fic- hope you like it! Sorry, but don't really know any good Sirius forced marriage fics; that's why I'm writing one now:)**

**Next chapter: Badass Caelia (finally!) Severus... maybe. If I want to make the chapter about twice a normal length. Which I probably don't. Which means you're most likely going to have to wait a week from today for Severus to enter.**

**Reviews inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	7. Chapter 7: friends and enemies

Cassia giggled in her high-chair, and there was little other than festivity and happiness in their lives. Caelia might not have forgiven him- not yet- but she hadn't exactly _stopped_ him from visiting her at night.

She was pregnant again, even though Cassia was barely two years old.

_The one time in probably _two _years to really enjoy Halloween._

The time when veils were thinnest, and when the past, present, and future all collided. Important in the Muggle World, but far more-so in the Wizarding; it was perhaps the most important holiday after Yule and the Summer Solstice. Caelia pressed flowers of moonlit silver into her daughter's hair for the week leading up to it, and the two of them danced under the harvest moon all night long.

They dance in the Sea of Moonlight Blossoms, an acre-large garden planted with one species alone- _lule perla, _better known as the pearl flower. Rumored to be notoriously difficult to cultivate and even worse to maintain, one of Sirius' ancestors had loved Herbology enough to import it from its native land, Albania. Over centuries, the flowers had increased in number, from the hundred that the lady had brought to the thousands- nay, _millions- _that circled her now. Silver and brilliant, the pearl flower lay dormant for years until it was mature enough to bloom, and legend had it that the lady had died believing she had sacrificed the Black fortune for nothing.

Hours after she breathed her last, they blossomed- and the beauty of that first glow _still _inspired poets and artists. Caelia had paid more attention to another thing, though; seven flowers- one for every year the fields lay barren- had been laid on the lady's grave, and no other was placed.

They were said to have lain fresh until the next Lady perished. Caelia wept when she heard that story- wept until there were no more tears in her.

_Is my life going to be the same?_

* * *

><p>Cassia went to bed, later, tired from all the exercise she's gotten, and Caelia curled up in her giant bed, lonelier without Sirius.<p>

_I hate him._

_-but he's my _husband. _I can't just throw him out _forever- _what about Cassia? She's his daughter. And for all that he's never loved me, at least he hasn't acted like he does. Like Lucius would._

And that could have been a match made in hell. Narcissa was beautiful- beautifully dangerous. Like a poisonous flower, who had colors brighter than jewels. Lucius, had he not been devoted to her, would have been oily-charming and deadly steel, and they would have killed each other two weeks after their honeymoon.

Bitter longing, mixed with acidic confusion swept through her, and all she wanted was to have him back and throw him out. Slowly, it ebbed, like midnight tide, and she drifted into the greyed area between sleep and wakefulness. She was half asleep when a house-elf popped into the room, startling her out of bed and into grabbing her wand.

They lived in a time of war, after all, and no matter where one's allegiances lay, one couldn't afford _not _to be vigilant.

"Sorry, Mistress," Penny whispered into the awkward silence that followed. "But there are men here asking for Mistress Caelia, and Master Black-"

_What has he done now? _There was no affection in the thought, only weary annoyance. She wasn't his caretaker, and Caelia had never wanted to be. _Damn you, Walburga!_

_You chained me to the fool of the century._

* * *

><p>She swept down seconds before the Aurors start to climb upstairs- a breach of conduct and propriety that meant she didn't have to pretend the furious flush in her cheeks.<p>

"Is there something you gentlemen need?" Her voice was chilly and precise, the perfect way of dealing with them- memories of the Aurors coming to question her over her sister's death were the only thing she could remember- and those weren't fond memories. These were different people, but they were trained by the same.

Forgiveness was not in her nature.

Most of them shifted slightly, but others only stared boldly back. Caelia couldn't help but mark them, watching, hiddenly confused, as they didn't react. _Something's changed. And I don't know what. Damn you, Sirius!_

"Where is your husband?" The lead Auror asks arrogantly.

Muggleborns weren't only hated because of their lack of breeding. Caelia narrowed her eyes back, and saw all the nights spent insulting them behind their backs. This one wasn't only muggle-raised; he was a pureblood masquerading as a muggle-born. _There are some things too ridiculous for even me. _James Potter and Sirius might have always defended the Muggleborn, but she'd _seen _the hidden wince at times when Sirius reacted instinctively to some sort of social gaffe. Maybe this man didn't know any better.

But he was in _her _society. It was no more and no less than his _duty _to understand and follow the rules of the society he chose. Fury thrilled through her at his impertinence.

She might be a trophy wife, but even she had limits for a person's behavior. "Not here, Blichfeldt."

"Let it be recorded that the suspect has been uncooperative." He turned away sharply. "Search the premises."

The Aurors moved forward, and the only thing she felt was a sort of blank shock. No Auror had ever- even in the height of terror under Grindelwald- been given the go-ahead to raid a person's house. A house was the personal _temple _of a true wizard, and to desecrate it with even forcible entry was a perversion of justice.

It was the mockery in another's loose wand, though, that propelled her past shock and into something far more destructive.

Anger.

A roaring wave of fury that caught with the magic of the Manor and swirled together with it; the Aurors stood no chance against her. She stood in her own home, and her daughter was only a few meters away- hidden only by doors and chance. These men would not have dared do such a thing to any other Pureblood family, and they would not do it to hers.

Of that much, she was certain.

Her hair had fallen out of the bun she'd pulled it into, and her dress was coated in the dust from the shaking manor. Power webbed out from her fingers- silken strands that curled around every being inside. Slowly, slowly- so very slowly- she brought her hands down, feeling the strands tear one by one. Bowing her head, she shuddered at the feeling of absolute power. No wonder so few wanted it- or spurned it.

A shake of her head brought the rest of the world back into focus. The threat had been neutralized. It was time to deal with the aftermath.

Shock burned coldly in her stomach, and she wondered dimly when the magic of the Black Manor had become attuned to her own. When had she been so _stupid? _Except- except Sirius was the Lord. And he wasn't even there, half the time. The magic needed somewhere to _go. _Caelia was just a useful scapegoat.

_More chains. _Rage steamed through the chill air, but there was nothing for her to attack.

Baring her teeth felt almost good, even if it was uncivilized, but she needed to be in control for this. A flick of her wand, hidden behind her back, had her appearance as coolly normal as always. A second, and her dress was clean. She glanced over the men strewn across her parlor floor, and contempt spread across her face, fresh and clean.

She called Penny back to her, waved her over to the men with orders to clean them up- it wouldn't do to have them looking like they were on the losing end of a fight- even if they _were- _and scribbled a neat note pasted onto Blichfeldt's chest, before pushing him and various others through the Floo. She didn't know where they'd end up, but they tried to attack her in her _home_.

If Voldemort was fool enough to have a connection open, she wished all of them would land in his grate.

Lips tight with disapproval, she apparated moments later, heading for the one place she knew Sirius would go- even if she'd avoided it since her graduation.

Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>"Where is my husband?" The words were low and hard, annoyance having hardened it into anger. She had been in Dumbledore's office for <em>hours, <em>now, and he hadn't told her a thing. She might have given up before, but there was a shadow in his eyes when he'd stated his ignorance that left her wary of it.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Black, but I do not know." Dumbledore said kindly, yet unable to truly hide the sigh of annoyance. A flare of triumph bolstered her flagging resolve.

Caelia nodded perfunctorily; she wouldn't let Dumbledore have the slightest _idea _that she was rude or boorish. For all her bravado, though, there was a knot in the pit of her stomach that said she had just committed a mistake.

After all, the only thing saving her from Voldemort's grace was her public distance from Sirius. _I wonder if he knows that I keep Cassia away from him just for that._

_…Nah. He's just _that _stupid._

And Sirius _was. _He was stupid, arrogant, and frustrating at the best of times; she expected that he'd only get worse the more time she spent with him.

The door to the office flung open with a bang, throwing her out of her musings. And Caelia hid a smirk at the rage on McGonagall's face and the studious blankness on Snape's.

_Severus. _She corrected herself mentally, smirking at the reminder of _that _memory. She and Severus had known each other for some time, first as tutor and student, then as friends. They might never been _close_, but neither had been belligerent; they greeted each other in the hallways or at meals, and had always had an easy camaraderie that came from a shared, bitter history.

When she'd spoken to him, civilly, at their marriage, she'd savored the look of utter shock on her newly-wed's face. Neither she nor Severus had had a problem with rubbing it in, either, and it was often the sole amount of amusement she'd receive for weeks on end, after a particularly frustrating Order meeting.

Andromeda might be nice, but Caelia. Well, she just _wasn't._

There was a slightly discomfited look on McGonagall's face, probably at Caelia's presence, and Caelia refused to smile at it- while she might have been a half-blood, McGonagall had always been a staunch Muggle-follower. Caelia had never held anything other than respect for her teachings, but there came a time when a person's refusal to seek out different traditions was no longer a choice, but a failing.

McGonagall had lived among them for over fifty years. Caelia was pretty damn sure it was a failing.

Severus greeted her politely after speaking to Albus, but McGonagall just stalked out angrily. Caelia couldn't help but curl her lip in response to the slight.

"And yourself, Severus?" The involuntary twitch from Albus at her warm tone left her lips twitching.

He inclined his head almost sardonically. "As well as can be expected, I suppose." Eyes dark with some hidden emotion, he continued. "And what about your boor of a husband?"

She could see the anticipation in Albus' eyes to her rebuke. A hidden part of her sent a withering look at him. "Oh, well enough. He's why I'm here actually." At his arched eyebrow, she went on. "I got a squad of Aurors on my doorstep at two in the morning. I was- _displeased- _at their presumption. To say the least."

He snorted. "I suppose they'll be coming to pick me up, soon?"

Caelia shrugged flippantly. Her spirits were higher now, after a light game of verbal tennis, than they had been in weeks. _Says a lot about my personality, I guess._

"It depends on what you mean by they."

Dumbledore interrupted, sounding faintly _startled _at the familiarity of their exchange, and Caelia could barely stop herself from echoing the smirk on Severus' face. "No one is going to take anyone, Severus. Mrs. Black-"

"Lady Black." Caelia doesn't stop herself this time, as she had all the others; bravado carries its own headiness.

"Excuse me?"

"Lady Black." Caelia leaned forward, almost threatening. "As is my title ever since Walburga Black perished."

Dumbledore frowned. "I would have assumed you would not stand on formalities,"

"A presumption that is most _assuredly _wrong," she responded coldly. "And I do _sincerely_ apologize if I have given you such a preposterous idea."

A weak smile answered her statement, and he turned away slightly. "Pardon me, _Lady Black, _but there are a few issues that need my approval."

"Of course," she said graciously- in victory, she could claim to be generous.

Severus sent her an unreadable look, before bowing courteously. "I must take my leave, Lady Black, but I do hope you will- ah, _grace- _us with your presence before the end of the year?"

She nodded back, lowering her head briefly. Respect ought to be shown first to Albus, then Severus, but pure spite motivated her actions and erased all restraint. Ignoring Albus, she told Severus to owl her a time and a place to have some tea, and catch up on their lives outside of Hogwarts.

Directing a half-hearted scowl at Albus, she walked over to the mantel, and said flatly, not bothering to conceal her irritation, "I expect Sirius home soon, Albus."

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone!<strong>

**This was supposed to be updated last Friday, but end of semester rush, flying _all _the way across the country, and getting a huge amount of inspiration to write my _other _story (which is ATLA but is still good, so go read it!) all combined to mean that I couldn't edit this in time. If some of you have noticed, the tense changes sometimes, from chapter to chapter. I'm trying to change that, and keep it all in past tense, which means most of the previously written chapters need to be completely rehauled.**

**I was going to make these two separate chapters, then decided to just sit down and finish it all today. Hope you enjoy:)**

**Anyways... Next chapter you should get a little more Sirius, and, if I can get to it, some spiritual mumbo-jumbo between Caelia and a long-lost sister.**

**Read and review!**

**-Dialux**


	8. Chapter 8: a broken family

It was a full day later that Sirius walked back into their home, looking almost dazed from the media outside their home; Caelia had increased the ward-status from paranoid to deadly in response. Everyone wanted to know what had happened at Godric's Hollow and why the Potter's were still alive, but nobody knew _where_ they were.

_Which is likely what has saved them until now._

Caelia could see the delayed shock in his system; she forced him to sit down at the dining table, and force-fed him some chamomile tea. Some dry toast with honey was also sent up by the house elves- Caelia shoved it at him and avoided looking at the horror in his eyes.

"It was Remus," he whispered into the silence, but Caelia refused to respond. She didn't know what had happened, and she didn't want to. She would not take the heat- _or,_ a small part whispered nastily, _the credit-_ for Sirius' actions. "I suspected him. _I _killed him."

He looked at her, begging her to say all the comforting things. Caelia murmured, almost helpless but not quite, "Eat your toast."

He drooped against the table, and didn't look up when she pushed her chair back roughly. As she stalked out, her heart pounded with an undefinable emotion that could almost be characterized as pity.

_Good, t_hat same part of her that hated Sirius hissed, _let him know the pain of losing a loved one._

Guilt filtered through moments later, and she felt her footsteps falter. She had her reasons for avoiding Sirius- appearing too close could result in reprisal from Death Eaters, while appearing too distant would alienate staunch blood purists. All her power and influence rested on him, and Caelia was a Slytherin. Love and life meant a lot, but power was something more valuable than either.

Above all, she feared the day she slipped.

Pressing her hands against the cool stone of the hallway, she felt bitter tears well up. Indignation woven through with self-hatred all mixed with hurt... Caelia was confused. She was tired, and angry, and hurt, and a thousand other emotions she couldn't even isolate. _I'm human! _She wants to scream from the rooftops; she wants to tell the world that she can't do what they want her to do.

_You would be dead if Walburga Black hadn't forced him to marry you. _The knowledge, of her slight power, was hollow comfort in her chest, and she couldn't quite find it in her to forgive her husband. Closing her eyes, she let the tears she'd suppressed for _years _rise up, and made no attempt to ride the wave of her new insecurity.

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><p>Strangely enough, through her darkest time since she married, she remembered her sister.<p>

Caelia had never been a happy child. Her sister was fifteen years older, and was infinitely smarter, prettier, and stronger. But for all that- Cassiopeia had never loved anyone as much as she'd loved her father, and in the end that killed her. Those memories, of her father's hands and gleeful grin and mad, mad eyes...

Caelia had shoved them away to the back of her mind.

Cassiopeia had loved their father, and paid for it with her life. Caelia had no intention of making that same mistake. Still, she'd been jealous of her for all her life. Cassie had been perfection, which left only second best for Caelia. And she'd never been content with that.

They'd separated from the start; Cassiopeia had no time for a slimy young girl, and Caelia had never dealt well with dismissal. They had walked separate, parallel paths through life, but now- Caelia had lived for the same age as her sister, and soon it would be longer. Caelia had a daughter and some friends, where Cassie had walked a lonely path. They were _different, _on a fundamental level, and Caelia suspected that they could never have even hoped to be anymore than distant even if Cassie had not been killed.

The tears slid, ashen, across her cheeks, and she bent over once, acknowledging the pain and giving in to it for a brief instant. It was the first time, ever since Aidan's death, that she had recognized her own weakness, and it surprised her in its intensity. A gasping breath lent some measure of control, though, and she managed to drag herself back upright. When her eyes flickered open, everything- pain and dizziness spun away, leaving behind only white, numb shock.

A hallucination- or at least she thought it might _be _a hallucination. She hoped it might be a hallucination, because if it wasn't...

Her sister, ghostly and silver, floated above her, eyes merciless blank voids.

_What hell have I slithered into? _

There was no life on Cassiopeia's face, the face was nothing but gaunt and fathomless; it was troubling, to her, because Cassie had always had emotion. She'd smile and toss her head; she'd wear a death's-head grin before becoming _this _willingly... As she floated closer Caelia scrambled back, clutching her wrist to her chest.

_"What do you want, sister?" _Cassiopeia asked detachedly. Her eyes suddenly gleamed, holes filling with an unholy emotion.

"W-want?" Her voice wobbled, curse it, but the question behind it was genuine enough.

Cassiopeia circled closer. "_Want. Your desires, emotions, needs. What do you _want?"

Caelia leaned backwards slowly, fear stiffening muscles. Part of her wanted to quip, while the other shut her mind down. Cassiopeia had never hurt her- not ever, and she didn't know if her sanity could survive being physically abused by her older sister.

Who was fucking dead.

_So give her what she wants. Tell the truth. _"I- I want… I want to _live."_

Cassiopeia was almost touching her; her arm almost brushed Caelia's shoulder before she jerked back at her words. A flash of light, brilliant gold and blinding, beamed through the room, through Cassiopeia's body, and seared her out of existence.

Caelia leaned her head back against the stone wall shakily. She was on her knees, and while she might have been bruised and bloody- figuratively speaking- she was not broken.

_Not yet._

_Cassie._ _I miss you. _And that... was the truth. Undeniable, indefatigable, and true. Caelia loved her sister, as much as she had hated her for abandoning her. And, while it might have taken her a decade and a half to admit it- _better late than never, I suppose. _While there were still some questions she had for her sister if they ever met again, she was happy enough now. A weight and burden had lightened; she had faced a personal demon and not let it conquer her. But-

_I said I wanted to live. And I do- but you never asked at what expense. _

_I'm not sacrificing the happiness I've made today for the hope of a better happiness tomorrow. I'm not foolish enough for such a thing, and I don't expect you'd want me to be. But it still hurts, to give up that dream._

Half-forgotten memories of dancing with her sister in rain-showers, of stealing their father's wand to make bubbles light up and grinning, of wrapping gifts for Yule and playing with the ribbons instead.

_Her smile could light up the world._

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><p><strong>So, this is chapter eight. Hope you enjoy it! But, um, I know I'm two weeks late. It's a hell of a story, but the truth of the matter is that I was obsessed with ATLA (Avatar the Last Airbender) fics, and got a <em>huge <em>jump start on it. Then I made a promise to myself that next time I posted I'd have an outline for the entirety of this fic.**

**And guess what? I do! It's going to be about twenty more chapters (I'm guessing?) and should cover up to Cassia's entrance into Hogwarts. Until then... there's a lot going on. Next chapter is actually already written, I'm editing it and it should (hopefully...) be up next week. It holds pretty much everything going on with Severus and Caelia up to that point. After that, we will actually- finally!- be moving forward in the timeline, and should have Severus' trial, etc.**

**See you then!**

**Reviews inspire me.**

**-Dialux**

**(PS: If anyone is a beta or knows a beta, please let me know. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier. Thank you!)**


	9. Chapter 9: to do, or not to do?

Peter escaped justice, as he would in another world, but this time it was not for lack of looking.

Caelia watched as her world spun out of orbit; hurried toasts marked Sirius' cheerful friends, while in Narcissa's home fear pervaded the entire Manor. The dichotomy was shocking, to her- she was one of very few who could see the true results, on both sides, of Voldemort's defeat. For the moment, though, she was content to just sit back and watch, as her friends and her husband's friends battled over lives and torture like they were coins for barter.

_Now, that makes me sound like a bad person,_ she thought amusedly. _But no self respecting Slytherin would accept my help, even if I were to give it. And I... am not in the habit of looking for humiliation._

Then, in the ghost of night, she jerked awake.

Scowling heavily at the doors- she could hear muffled laughter from the ballroom and it was certainly not controlled- she rose, padding outside to go place some silencing spells around Cassia's bed. As she walked, she heard- _"shame he's not going for life... I'd hoped he'd be killed off like all those nasty Slytherins... Snivellus deserves it..."_

Fury bubbled through her.

The doors to the room were locked, and it was only that delay that gave her the presence of mind to not curse her husband to hell and back. How dare he? How dare he! They both knew what Severus had done. He had turned his back on them, and...

Reason caught up with her. _Now why would they think that he wouldn't go for life?_ She answered her own question, _If Albus saved him. Except... Albus used up so much political capital keeping Sirius out of Azkaban during the initial confusion-_ her breath caught. _Severus is going to Azkaban. Albus won't dare to protect him; nobody else wants to. And anyone who does, they're busy keeping their own arse covered._

_It has to be me._

Even as she wove silencing wards around her daughter's bed, her mind buzzed with the new knowledge and what she would have to do with it.

* * *

><p><strong>So this is a filler chapter until next one; I'm aware that it's dry. This fic is not going to be bursting with action (the next one, will be though, so stay tuned!) and is mostly focused on CaeliaSeverus/ host of other people all of you know but are going to be spoilers/ Dark recovering and getting back on their feet, especially after they were screwed over by the Light- as I think they were in canon.**

**Realmer06 (check out my fave stories) put it wonderfully: "Justice, and not vengeance." That should be the motto of the WW, but it wasn't. Sirius, anyone? Twelve years in jail, for absolutely _nothing; _in, basically, a torture facility_... Yeah. _That violates human rights so many ways I don't want to think about it.**

**Anyways- I now have a beta! TheShulesLovingPsycho has become my much-needed beta, and has saved me butt-loads of time/energy in cranking this out.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed!**

**Reviews really do inspire me. In particular, I'd like to thank eolas eadrom's indepth PM yesterday, and previouslyjade for your wonderful reviews!**

**-Dialux**


	10. Chapter 10: Interlude (fond memories)

**December, 1973:**

* * *

><p><em>"So you'll assist him, Ms. Derwent?" Slughorn's ample belly jiggled with his booming laugh. A distracted part of Caelia's mind laughed at it, while the rest of her made her head nod woodenly. She knew the things expected of her; if her Head of House gave her an assignment she'd better have a damn good reason to refuse.<em>

_And so a fourth-year Caelia tutored a third-year Snape, and it was a lesson in hell for the both of them. Severus didn't know- and didn't care- for the finer aspects of transfiguration, while Caelia was not a patient teacher at the best of times. But soon enough, the lessons had blossomed from cold silences and formal politeness into not-quite-warmth; respect for each other's knowledge had paved a road that they were able to walk down easily enough._

* * *

><p><em>Severus asked her, mid-fourth year, for lessons in pureblood etiquette. <em>

_His cheeks were flushed, his countenance wary, and his every move seemed to scream 'I know I'll be rejected, but I need to try.'_

_It had been easy enough to smile pleasantly and nod, on Caelia's part. However, when it came to actually __helping __him, she despaired an hour in. _

_For starters, he was not good-looking. Pureblood society placed such value on looks- while they weren't the end-all of propriety or manners, had he had a classical face at least some of his transgressions could have been overlooked. As it was… Snape would have been lucky to make it past a casual acquaintance without offending someone._

_Then- he wasn't controlled. He spoke before he thought, leapt before he looked, and let his temper lead him where it wanted with no thought as to the consequences. Pruning that back could drive a saint to __cursing, __frankly._

_And finally, he wasn't a pureblood. That- it, too, wasn't the telling factor. But he had to be __perfect __to even get a chance at interacting with the best names of the day, and Snape did not have the advantage of blood. Also, he did not have the childhood training of a proper pureblood; what came naturally for Caelia was questioned and prodded and inspected until she was ready to hurl things at him._

_Oh, there were advantages. While his family might have been poor, she had pushed him to sell some complex potions- whether among students or in Knockturn Alley, it didn't matter- and he had made enough money to tailor clothes, which changed his image from slovenly to respectable. He was also smart- books on Occlumency, to tame his temper, or etiquette, were read at a gratifyingly quickened pace. _

_What he needed was training, and training… well. She gave it to him._

_Thrice a week, scrubbing and practicing his manners until even the most conservative pureblood would have trouble finding fault. Twice a week, working on appearances until he appeared dignified and striking, if not handsome. _

_By the end of the school year, she smiled at him and pronounced him worthy of high society._

_And so, she was startled- and worried, truth be told- when he stalked into the Slytherin Common Room a year later, eyes the red of just-shed tears and face screwed into a rather unattractive mix of fury and despair._

_"I wonder what's wrong with him?" Caelia asked Ermengarde, a sour-faced girl who sneered back at her with all her diamond-edged pride._

_"Stupid boy," she said with satisfaction. "In love with a Mudblood, and foolish enough to tell her the truth. Lily Evans will never have someone such as him watch and see. He'll pine away and she will never care for his love." she tilted her head; a proper princess didn't spit, but the desire shone in her eyes__. "Just waiting for an excuse, let me tell you. Pity that a __Slytherin __could be fooled for this long."_

_Carefully masking her emotions, Caelia got back to reviewing for her exams._

_Later that night, there was a party, celebrating the end-of-year exams, and, apparently, Severus had been persuaded into attending._

_He looked very morose, and clutched a glass of Firewhiskey tightly- his knuckles were white- and his posture was tired, so very, very tired. Pity stirred in her gut; Caelia liked this boy with a razor-sharp tongue and a wit so dry she could barely match, and she didn't know if she could watch as he fell apart (she'd seen enough brokenness in her old family) so she followed him when he darted back to the bathroom._

_His arm draped over the latrine, black wool over white porcelain, and Caelia kicked the offending bottle to the drain. Moving forward, she embraced his shoulders loosely; he was thin under the distracting cloth, and she suddenly wanted to fix him very, very much._

_But before she could cast any more charms, he was talking- a rapid litany of woes and curses, and all the things he would do for revenge, if only he could._

_Caelia pressed a hand against his, and the warmth seemed to jerk something inside of him. Color flushed his pale cheeks, but his eyes were pleading._

_"Don't go," he whispered._

_"I won't," she promised, and held him through the night, until the tears faded and he fell asleep. Then she tucked him into bed, and walked away regretfully._

_When she saw him at breakfast, she was sorely tempted to tell him to stop; to tell him to __think __about what his hate could cause._

_Except one thing held her tongue- it wasn't her place to tell him what path to take. Others had; nobody could have missed Evans' loud, melodramatic speeches in the Entrance Hall about the 'right' side and how Severus was making a mistake._

_She snorted._

_What the daft girl didn't realize was that she'd pushed Severus into a polarizing situation; he couldn't keep a good reputation among his classmates- who, incidentally, held most of the Potion Masters, which was a profession he truly wanted to study, under close watch- and still be good friends with her._

_Oh, he'd clung onto that belief and hope for long enough, but it wasn't nearly enough to maintain that friendship- not that Evans had tried overly hard to keep it. She sniffed contemptuously. She hated fools, and hated those who tolerated them more._

_The two of them- Severus and Evans- needed to be watched closely. Together, they were strong, but different enough that in a few years' time, when the golden gilt of Evans' allure faded, all affection on his part would have faded. Apart- well. _

_There was a __reason __why there was that saying: distance makes the heart grow fonder._

_And Severus was never good at resisting addictions._

* * *

><p><em>The next time they'd meaningfully interacted was at her graduation ceremony, where she'd invited him more out of duty than any real hope that he'd come. He had his own life, after all, and they weren't really all that close. The real reason she'd sent it was that three people were allowed for each person and it was just plain depressing that the two others she'd invited were her fiancée and his cousin.<em>

_But he'd come- sidled out of shadows after she'd spoken to Sirius, hands tucked into pockets and eyes unreadable._

_"Derwent." He said flatly. "You look good."_

_She arched an eyebrow back. "Do I truly?"_

_He huffed dryly, and shrugged noncommittally. "How's Black? He sounded-_strained."

_"Let's just say he's not happy." Caelia said quietly, if amusedly. "And leave it at that."_

_He nodded carefully, and Caelia glanced around them. Families embraced their loved ones all around them; cheerful greetings and farewells echoed through to the ceiling. In her little corner, there was only awkward silence. But when she turned back to Severus, his eyes weren't pitying._

_She was strangely glad for it._

_Suddenly, he thrust his hand out to her. Slowly, she looked at it, eyes widening at the gift he'd handed to her._

_Equality in the wizarding world… wasn't exactly_equal. _Severus knew that better than most._

_Perhaps other gave gifts of watches and money; she'd take freedom and equality over anything else._

_Nodding, she took his hand in a firm grip and murmured, "Farewell, Severus Snape."_

_He inclined his head. "Farewell, Caelia Derwent."_

_The emphasis on Derwent was faint, but noticeable. It warmed her, to see him recognize her maiden name instead of the one of his hated enemy._

_At the wedding, he had been there, too- hidden in shadows deeper than she could have penetrated without a little help from a drunk man who stumbled when he shouldn't have, and careened out of the corner slightly more powerfully than such an inebriated person ought to have. _

_Curiosity piqued, she watched as a man came out. Tall and thin, and cloaked masterfully, he held himself carefully, with none of the unconscious grace that marked a true pureblood._

_…with all the careful elegance of a half-blood who wanted to appear as a pureblood._

Severus Snape, _she choked on her glass at the realization. __What business could you possibly have at the wedding of Sirius Black? _

_Interest dawned, and she lifted her glass almost mockingly at him. The dangling crystal gleamed, motes of dust hanging, and she flicked her hand just enough to indicate to__him _to come closer, but to another a simply disinterested swirl._ Silently, she asked: _What are you doing here?

_He walked over to them slowly, and she felt- more than saw- her newly-wed husband stiffen in both outrage and shock. Before he could create a scene, though, she spoke._

_"It is interesting to see you here, Severus."_

_And while Sirius was still sputtering in delayed shock over that, Severus smirked. "I wanted to see you- a marriage is a once-in-a-lifetime event."_

_And if that wasn't a request for gossip, she didn't know what was. She smiled thinly. "The marriage of the century, they call it." A graceful shrug rustled cloth in a not-quite-innocent manner. "Grander than any other."_

_She watched him carefully to see if he understood the gift of information hidden in those words- she had just revealed her own helpless frustration at the cage she'd found herself trapped in. If he understood that-_

_He did._

_Heart tightening, she pressed fingers against her wrist, freedom's headiness pulsed over her, and-_

_Severus shook his head, the barest twitch that shook hair over his brow. Despair slumped over her, and she inclined her head just so, bittersweet._

You're an agent for the Dark Lord, here. You have to watch _everything_you say, don't you?

_She didn't know why she hoped, any more._

* * *

><p><strong>November, 1981:<strong>

And that had been the last time she'd seen him, until the impromptu meeting in Albus' office.

Severus had left her chained to his enemy, and she hadn't been able to blame him. He had abandoned her on a dais that couldn't even be said to be dangerous- or it hadn't been when she married him. If she blamed him for that, how could she _not_expect blame for letting him choose the Death Eaters?

_We choose our destinies. And can blame no one for_not _helping us out of those paths._

Which… was true of Slytherins. To an extent. But others? They _interfered._And they _expected_people to interfere. It was a dichotomy in beliefs she hadn't understood until Aidan had asked her, point-blank, why she had let him break his leg walking under the Whomping Willow.

_("It was your choice, Aidan. Are you telling me you didn't_see _the damn thing? …that's ridiculous. I assumed you_knew! _How did you_miss _it?")_

And that was that. Slytherins faced consequences, others believed family and friends should shield them.

So why did she want to help Severus?

_He left me in that marriage._She thought flatly, wand itching against her palm. _He_abandoned _me. So why the_hell _do I want to help him now?_

She had a family. She had a _daughter_and another child coming soon; she couldn't be expected to sacrifice all that for a man who would have never done the same for her.

Except… she knew the truth of politics. She'd seen the look on Dumbledore's face. Cold, wary, distant; if she'd read him correctly- and she was _very_good at what she did- he would be in no hurry to help Severus.

_And I cannot stand by while an innocent man is placed in hell simply to assist the ego of his master._

Decision made, she stood up straight and left the nursery.

She had some errands to make.

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><p><strong>Well... This story has reached 10 Chapters! We should all celebrate! And I have the next two chapters written; the updates are going to stay fairly consistent (once a week) for now. <strong>

**On that note, this chapter is not beta-edited yet. I will change it, probably in another couple days, when she gets back to me, but I wanted to get this to all of you guys! Last chapter was horrifyingly suspenseful, I know. This one is also a filler chapter- it just deals with their past, which I wanted to establish so there aren't many questions later; but it is longer than usual so _enjoy!_**

**Reviews inspire me.**

**-Dialux**


	11. Chapter 11: judas' kisses, and honor

"Ugh." Caelia muttered under her breath, resisting the urge to wipe her hands against the slime that came from dirty politics.

It had taken her the better part of a couple hours before she'd been allowed in to see him, and the look on his face when he'd seen her…

The hope had been painful to witness.

Three days. It had taken her _three days _to secure a trial for Severus, much less a release. She was tired, and hungry, and cranky, but the memory of his eyes- black and cold, with only a hint of the terror he must have been feeling- kept her going and awake.

Bagnold's grating voice curdled any hope of a good dinner, and it was only years of practice at a poker face that got her through the days.

* * *

><p><strong>Three Days Later:<strong>

_This is _ridiculous. Caelia watched, incredulously. What should have been a closed-door trial had somehow turned into a vicious media storm; Sirius entered even as she watched, side by side with Lily and James, and the flash of the cameras nearly blinded her. _What- Bagnold and I are going to have a _chat _tomorrow. She promised privacy. This- whatever this is- is the opposite of private!_

She remained seated, directly behind Severus' bench, though she was protected via a layer of Patronus charms. Severus had none of those comforts; he had to face Dementors with no protection other than the natural resistance most magicals had.

_He is an Occlumens, _she reminded herself. _He is better equipped than most._

Still, Severus was pale and thin, from only a few days in Azkaban, and he looked rather desolate on the bench. Clenching her hands, she bit her tongue instead of getting up to talk. Settling for a poisonous glare at Bagnold, she waited.

* * *

><p>The judges entered slowly, resembling nothing so much as a pair of giant hippos crowded on a bench. She knew all of them- Dumbledore, Griselda Marchbanks, and Augusta Longbottom, newly returned from her hiding as Secret Keeper to the Longbottoms. Based on the judges and the crowd, Caelia was tensed; anything could happen in this bubbling tension.<p>

However, there was one way- _one way- _that Caelia knew of, to win this battle, but she didn't know if it was worth it…

One by one, the witnesses trooped up, driving the nails down into Severus' coffin. Caelia knew that she could call back any of them when it was her turn to defend him, but fury at the despair she could read in Severus' shoulders rose. He had turned his back on one of the most evil men in recorded history- and he'd _spied _for them!

_All of you should be thanking him on bended knee, _she thought viciously.

Then Sirius spoke, and the disdainful contempt in his eyes shattered any hope she had held for control.

The Light didn't understand, Caelia almost hissed, that they were losing all hope of reconciliation the longer they dragged on this farce of a trial. The Dark wasn't stupid; they could see that they had lost this round immensely, with Voldemort's death. What struck her was that no one else had recognized that each party was piled on opposite sides of the Wizengamot.

_Divisions scar our world more than togetherness. Continue this, and I will _bury _you alive._

Sirius sat down; she could see the grief in some of the Dark's eyes and hatred in those of the Light. She waited for a brief moment, so that Albus could speak up; he could give evidence and she could reject the accusations with ease-

-_Oh, my god. He's not going to say anything is he? _Caelia thought, horrified, when she saw the regretful shake of his head at Severus.

_I'm going to make you regret this day until kingdom come, Albus fucking Dumbledore._

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><p>Sirius watched dismissively as Caelia rose to defend him.<p>

She could try; he knew vaguely that the two had been friends in Hogwarts. But more recently, he was certain that she hadn't contacted him since their wedding, and he was glad.

_Oh, Caelia. Now you know the truth of Slytherin. Hopefully you can learn, from this lesson. See the darkness in his soul, defend him all you like. He deserves Azkaban, and no wife of mine will care for one such as him- of that much, I'm sure._

But her eyes weren't pointed at Severus with the shame and fury that should have been there; there were no tears at all.

What was there was a proud, unbending look, prouder than all the queens of ancient times. Her posture was straight, no despair showing. And for the briefest of moments, Sirius felt something almost like admiration, for the beautiful, defiant _proud _young woman in front of him.

In the next, it was gone, among thoughts of _s__he can't possibly still believe him, she wouldn't defend him, I can't believe this! _and he was left glaring at his wife with all the poisoned hatred he could muster.

"You may question the witnesses, Lady Black, or you may give a speech," Albus told her formally. Caelia nodded slowly, turning to face the people around them.

"I shall speak first, if it pleases the Court," she told him. At Albus' nod, she stepped through the divider between the court and the accused; almost instantly her face drained of color. Her eyes flicked over to the dementors, who floated a scant foot forward...

And she turned away from them as if they weren't worth her time. Murmurs swept through the court- it took a rare will indeed to allow someone to ignore dementors. Caelia didn't seem to notice.

"There are many things that change us," she began quietly, calming the entire Wizengamot with her gravity. "And many things that we learn as we grow. There are many things that mark us as adults, and not as children. According to Cassius Gamp, 'calling ourselves completely of Dark, or completely of Light, is a disservice not to ourselves but to others; we cannot see the good in others when we are taught that there is none in them.' Believing that our world is light and dark is easy, but it is not true- for there will always be grey.

"Our world is not one of black and white, as so many would have us believe. We are creatures of shadows _and _light, not shadows _or _light. The darkness that is present in all our souls is balanced by the light- forgetting this is what leads to genocides and mass killings. It is easy," She said softly. "To call this man guilty. He _is _guilty, of terrible crimes. But answer this: if the world turned its back on _you, _and you had none to rely upon. If everyone abandoned you, and in your darkest hour an angel's hand reached down and called you his 'right hand,' who among you would not answer his call?"

Her hands clasped tightly, and her voice hardened. "And if, once the light shone on the angel, it turned out to be a demon… who among us would not turn away? The answer is yours- but the truth of the question I ask today is this: should we punish such a man, who regrets his decisions, or should we help him, so the darkness and abandonment need never drag him down into confusion once more?"

There was a brief pause, as the entire court held its breath at her audacity.

Slowly, she raked her eyes across the people. "To that end, I would like to call one man up to the podium. He will answer your questions; he will tell you the truth of the triumphant celebrations you have held for the past week." She smiled thinly. "For oftentimes, it is so easy to mistake a reprieve for a pardon."

_She can't mean what I think she meant. _Sirius could feel fury twisting underneath his ribcage- just where his heart should have been. _She _cannot _have meant that._

"This isn't standard," Albus said, stroking his beard.

"Oh, surely not, Albus!" Griselda Marchbanks answered, sternly. "Don't you want to find out?"

Augusta frowned lightly, as both of them turned to her, waiting for her input. "I think," she said slowly, "that we wish to find out what the Lady Black has to say."

Albus sighed. "Go on, then, Lady Black."

Slowly, Caelia smiled. It was cold, and harsh, and reminded Sirius of triumph he'd felt when the Death Eaters fell, tinged with the bitterness of hollow victory. "Then, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court," she whispered, voice like blowing wind. "I would like to introduce you to Regulus Black."

_What?_ Sirius didn't even notice that he was standing up on his seat. _Regulus is alive?!_

* * *

><p><strong>Hi all... This is the next chapter. Yes, it's early. *takes a bow* All of you ought to be directing your thanks to Eolas Eadrom, a fanfic writer who spent a <em>long <em>time composing a response yesterday. (You know, when I tell you reviews are inspiring, I meant them!) Also, she's stated that she's going to be leaving this fandom, so I could, just maybe, just _maybe _be adopting one of her fics. **

**Look out for that; and um, enjoy this one. It's only the first chapter on the trial, and while part of me really wants to add legal jargon, I had a _long _talk with some of my friends, and they told me that it worked better without. So, it has mainly speeches, etc, not legalese. I also wanted to add the entirety of the trial to this one, but I feel like it works better this way. So... enjoy the cliffhanger, because the next couple ones are going to be rather chock-full of revelations!**

**Reviews inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	12. Chapter 12: facades of words

Regulus walked into the courtroom, slowly.

He didn't cut the regal figure of his brother, nor the cutting elegance of his father. He was subtle- understated.

And that, was how Regulus liked it.

The blue, star-gilted robes hung off his frame, like all of his clothes. The past few months had not been kind to him, though he'd certainly come out of it better than he'd expected…

_I'm alive. Which is more than can be said for so many others._

He remembered, vaguely, the time that had stricken him so deeply- _Horcruxes, the Dark Lord hissed sibilantly. Who will hold my soul?- _and Regulus had fled. He'd wanted to grab Bella, but she had always been a better dueler, and her devotion to their Lord…

It had been matched by none.

_And now, she is on the run, while I address the Wizengamot. How the mighty have fallen, cousin._

The white-beveled shock had traced through him, and the next thing he truly remembered was landing in a Black house in Wiltshire. Then, clawing himself through the fog to send a message to Caelia, the only person he could rely upon in the mess he'd found himself in. His brother would as soon as curse him as listen to him, while everyone else he could rely on was affiliated with the Dark Lord. Finally, telling her, under a sky-crushing rain, hopelessly, the horror and regret at finding the true madness of his Lord.

The rest was all flashes of emotion and color; even now he wasn't sure whether it was a fever dream or the truth.

Relaxing against the podium's seat, Regulus waited for the subtle uproar to subside- subtle because it was the Dark who was shocked, and uproar because he was supposed to be… dead. The Light, he suspected- perhaps unfairly- had not noticed anything other than that he was Sirius' brother.

_Ha. And you think blood doesn't matter to you, whose every right is structured around that belief?_

_Please. At least the Dark is _truthful _about what they feel. The rest of you are hiding behind a shield of pacifism and rotten morals. That we're fighting _you _is an affront not just to you, but to us. Give me a sword and I'll run all of you through without a second thought._

Tilting his head to the side, he could catch Sirius' eye without seeming like it. A nasty grin spread over his face when he saw the utter disbelief on his face.

_Didn't think sweet little Caelia could do _this, _did you? Your very shock is an affront to her… Not that she would see it like that, I suppose._

_She's always been fine with appearing unassuming._

* * *

><p>"What-" Albus Dumbledore, who had abandoned one of his- very few, admittedly- friends, dared to stand up and control the Wizengamot. Caelia didn't speak, didn't even turn around to acknowledge everyone else. Ignoring them as only one born into affluence could, she arched an eyebrow precisely.<p>

_How is Severus? _She asked silently.

Regulus shrugged his shoulders lightly, the movement subtle enough that it looked like he was simply relaxing. _As well as can be, _he replied flatly.

_And yourself?_

_No better._

Caelia rocked back, breaking the flow immediately. Regulus averted his eyes, and she began to scribble something down quickly on a piece of parchment.

Through their conversation, the Wizengamot had calmed down, and order had finally been restored.

_Finally, _Regulus thought as he straightened into a perfect posture.

_Let the games begin._

* * *

><p>Severus watched faintly as two people managed to destroy the entire, waterproof- or so it had seemed- case.<p>

Caelia was _brilliant- _he didn't know when she'd read legal books, but it was _impressive- _and with the slightest hint, Regulus followed a thought to its completion. No words were too much; no hole in the prosecution's argument wasn't explored. Circles were spun around the former witnesses' words, contradicting them without appearing so; only one well-versed in watching every word and every movement could have caught their actions.

It was worthy of the Sistine Chapel, and was being painted on a Wiltshire church. Nobody could appreciate it, here, and he almost mourned that. Then he thought about mourning that, and had to bite back hysterical laughter.

Azkaban, which he hadn't expected to survive, was suddenly so distant his hopelessness seemed impossible. Now, they were fighting over how long he'd be under _house arrest._

Strength thrummed through him, even though dementors stood feet away.

* * *

><p>It was now time for the prosecutor.<p>

Selwyn was an old, conservative Pureblood- one chosen to give the trial an appearance of decency instead of a farce. However, anyone who knew him well knew that for enough money- or blood- he could be bought; a small bit of manipulation had yielded a precious _gem _of a knowledge.

_Use it, Regulus. Throw him off his game, until he's screaming bloody murder and all he sees is red._

_Then _finish _him._

A man like Selwyn didn't understand subtlety- he was too blunt for it. Threats, bribes, even promises could be kept, but manipulation had to be done behind the scenes. So the best way to deal with him? Use supporting characters. Turn everything he said on its head, until he couldn't say the truth for fear it would ruin him.

There was no smile on Caelia's face when she turned over the case, and nobody in the audience knew her own knowledge. She had made sure of it.

* * *

><p>"So, you stated that you joined the Death Eaters, voluntarily?" Selwyn asked as he swept forward.<p>

Regulus stiffened imperceptibly. "When I was sixteen, yes. I did not know what would happen… or what I was getting myself into. All I-"

"Please answer the question with a yes or a no."

"Then yes," Regulus said flatly. They had expected this, though- Caelia hadn't walked in unprepared, and she had made sure he wouldn't either. "But, as has been established, the world is grey- and trying to make it black and white isn't worth all the money in the Black Estate in Norfolk."

The subtle dig would fly over everyone else's heads, but to Selwyn… and Sirius-

-Regulus smiled viciously when the color bleached from both their faces.

_First point, to us._

* * *

><p><strong>And that is the end of the trial. Shorter than most of you were expecting, I'm sure, and far too little detail. Thing is, I'm a stickler for those tiny little bits of information most people don't catch. As a result, I had to make a choice: either write this chapter and jump over those parts that need to be addressed (if anyone still wants to answer that challenge back in chapter 3 I'll write it as a gift, but I'm not doing it otherwise) or put all those parts in when most people don't recognize what's going on, and confuse most of you.<strong>

**I also wanted to thank all of my lovely readers and reviewers. All of you are brilliant; you make me smile so much! To answer some of you:**

**Trueheart10: Yeah, I understand what you're saying. But, the truth is, it was either make it one long chapter or break it up. I needed a place, and the way I did it was one of the better spots (especially seeing as this chapter wasn't completely done yet). Also, try to keep in mind that these chapters haven't been beta-edited yet. It should be smoothed out soon enough, though...**

**Anonymous: Thank you. I do try to keep my characters realistic; nobody likes a Mary Sue and no character is deserving of becoming one. I actually like Sirius a lot, but I needed an antagonist, and he's one of the more prejudiced ones in canon. I took advantage of the fact, and I'm not about to apologize:) Hope the chapters continue to be interesting. I'll try to update midway next week!**

**Previouslyjade: I know you said you didn't mind if I didn't respond, but it just feels _rude _to me not to. So bear with me; you're a brilliant reviewer and I'm so glad you enjoyed Woven Dreams! I've just put up a Percy drabble series, so look at that if you want to see my take on a romance.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll see you soon with chapter 13!**

**Reviews do inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	13. Chapter 13: bringer of death

"All those in favor of house arrest?" Dumbledore's face was blank, though his magic tasted sour; Regulus hid a smile at the duplicity.

Neither Severus nor Caelia, though, even seemed to notice. Both were focused completely on the votes. It was a close one, Regulus thought, the vote. Despite their best efforts, there were some people who wanted to see all Dark wizards behind bars. Severus was only their victim of choice.

Enough minds had been changed, though.

Neither Caelia nor Severus were touching- neither even spoke as the votes were tallied. Yet there was something undefinable, in the tilt of their heads and stillness of their bodies, that whispered of dependency and friendship.

Fragile? Maybe. But to Slytherins… he was well aware of the view they held on cross-gender relationships that didn't encompass sex. They were already pushing boundaries, with her impassioned defense.

Then Regulus saw the unholy gleam in his brother's eyes, and every feeling of exultance and victory fled.

If there was one person who could make Caelia's life a living hell, it would be him. Despite all appearances, she was a devoted wife- and breaking her loyalty to him would shatter her _completely. _It wasn't like she had much leeway, either, in defying Sirius.

_If you touch a hair on her head, Sirius, _Regulus promised wholeheartedly, _I will personally flay the skin from your bones. _

But promises were only words, and words were only sounds on the wind. Regulus loved his sister-in-law, but he could do very little to protect her.

They had saved Severus, and won the battle; they had saved their friend and lost the war.

Bowing his head, Regulus felt the bitterness of a pyrrhic victory slide over his neck, a cold knife running mind-numbing circles against his bare skin.

_I hate you, Sirius._

* * *

><p>Something was niggling Caelia, even in the flush of triumph.<p>

Augusta Longbottom stood at the judges' podium, already ready to go, but her words to Albus seemed tense, seemed angry.

There were bags under her skin, and a hint of exhaustion, though that was erased by her domineering personality quickly. Her hands trembled just barely; her wand was shoved into her purse as soon as it was polite to do so. Caelia watched discreetly as she turned and walked away.

_The Longbottoms! _The thought washed her mind in shocked white. _They've been in hiding for just as long as the Potters; Augusta was their Secret Keeper, and she's now out of hiding. What could possibly-_

Phrases snapped into place, and any questions she'd had over the course of a year were answered.

_Regulus, I'm going to _kill_ you._

Wand in hand, she pushed her way through the crowd, snapping subtle repulsion spells under her breath. "Regulus!" Her voice boomed over the crowd, aided with the Sonorus.

Regulus appeared in the next minute, eyes wide and hair disheveled. "We need to get out of here!"

"Do you have Severus?" Caelia whirled away before he could answer. "I need to talk to Lady Longbottom."

"Why?"

"Get Severus, and I'll explain. If I'm right- we don't have much time."

Frowning heavily, Regulus let himself be borne away by the crowd. It was rare indeed for Caelia to look so… worried. Yes, that was the right word. Worried didn't imply terrified, after all...

"Lady Longbottom!" Caelia flung herself through the last edges of the crowd, nearly tripping over the hem of her robes. "Lady _Longbottom!" _

The stately woman turned around slowly, and sighed. "What is it, Lady Black? I'm afraid I have other obligations today, so-"

"Like protecting your son?" She asked breathlessly. When Augusta's eyes narrowed, she went on. "You can't go home!"

"Give me a good reason why not," she replied, just a touch puzzled, turning on angry.

Caelia nodded. "I have one, and that's all you'll need."

"What is it?" What she meant was, _don't overestimate yourself._

"The Fidelius dropped this morning," Caelia whispered. _Don't underestimate me, _she retorted silently. "And the second child of the Prophecy has been revealed to the Dark Lord's followers. Do you think your son and his wife are strong enough against three lunatics?"

Augusta's face had paled to the hue of ghost-steel. "Three _lunatics?_"

Some part of Caelia felt bad for her. The rest told herself to finish the job. "Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and," she said quietly, watching as the aged witch staggered at each word as if they were blows, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Go," Augusta managed. "And I shall come with-"

"You are not in your prime, Lady Longbottom," Regulus said forcefully as he finally appeared. Severus followed him, though his face was far whiter. It seemed that Azkaban had truly left a mark.

"Then where-"

"Go to another home," Caelia told her softly. "And wait for a Patronus message. Ward yourself in."

Augusta sent them one last, helpless look before she walked into the fireplace. "Keep them alive," she commanded fiercely.

Then she was gone.

* * *

><p>"Why are you doing this?" Regulus asked flatly, as the three of them apparated into a small field a scant minute from the Manor. When Severus turned to him questioningly but Caelia barely acknowledged him, he waved his wand in an all-encompassing arc. Wards snapped into place around them.<p>

"Nobody's here yet, stop your whining," he said impatiently when she turned to him, outraged. "Why are you _doing _this, Caelia? There's no love lost between you and the Longbottoms, I know that much. And you aren't the kind of person to do this out of the goodness of your heart. _Why?"_

Caelia hesitated. There were many answers, and she could have replied with any of them. But… Regulus and Severus deserved the truth, and there wasn't time to tell them everything right then.

_Go on the attack. They're Slytherins, both of them. Neither'll expect it._

"I have my reasons," she told him shortly. "And if that isn't _enough _for you-"

"He didn't say that," Severus interrupted. It seemed to cost him some control, though; his face whitened further and he swayed slightly before gripping a convenient branch. "And Regulus- don't push. Not now."

Neither looked happy. Severus sighed. "I'm not a fucking babysitter, Caelia, Regulus. If you want to tear each other's throats out, go ahead. I don't _give a damn. _But if you want to save the Longbottoms, I'd suggest you get over your little spat soon."

Caelia frowned, letting the words filter through for a second, and then-

-whirled around, wand flashing upward, rending their small, warded circle in half.

"Don't come if you don't want to," she told them softly, like a viper curling in on itself, moments before it lashed out. Magic seared through her cheeks almost effortlessly, leaving her with fever-spots high on her cheeks. Her eyes glittered with something frighteningly similar to blood-lust, and both Severus and Regulus took a wary step back. "But I'm going now!"

And she leapt down the hillside.

* * *

><p>"Fuck," Regulus cursed softly, before glancing back at him.<p>

Severus was still half-leaning, half-standing against the tree, and the death-grip he had on the branch was also the only thing helping him. He knew he was pale- Azkaban pulled up the worst memories of a person's life, and it wasn't like he had any lack of those.

The first day in Azkaban had left him screaming on the floor.

Occlumency shields had been shredded through with ruthless efficiency. Had Caelia not swept in three days after his imprisonment, eyes warm and shoulders thrown back; had she not fought the dementors' memories and his own despair; had she not thrown everything she had into defying his hopelessness, well.

Severus would have given in, he was sure of it.

He'd already composed plans to destroy himself, and walking into that courtroom… Remembering the agony, as person after person condemned him with nothing more than a sneer, after _everything he'd done for them, _he could feel his heart shriveling. He'd have killed himself that night, if only to deny Dumbledore the relish of victory.

He'd have killed himself because he was too weak to face the mental pain.

Cold knives pressed against his shoulder blades; Severus startled out of his thoughts.

Regulus' eyes were worried celestines, layered over a firm glare. "Stay here, Severus-"

"No." Even he could be stubborn, if given enough reason.

_"Yes. _Caelia's down there, facing three intruders. And if you go, you know you'll only be a liability to us, so just-"

_"No."_

"Yes." Regulus seemed infuriatingly calm. "Because if you don't, I'll duel you. And every moment I'm dueling you, I'm not helping Caelia." He leaned in, then, and Severus could see the manic light in his eyes. "Is that what you want, Severus? Caelia's blood on your hands?

"Maybe even her _death?"_

Severus froze. His loyalties had shifted with the wind over the past few years, but Caelia's selfless actions had shown him his true leader. If she died, because he was being _stubborn…_

_…_his sanity wouldn't survive intact. Of that, he remained sure.

"Fine. But if you loose a shower of red sparks, I'll be there. You're a Slytherin, Black. Use your damned _head. _A person in the shadows…"

"… is the one who wins the war." Regulus' voice was mocking, just a hint. "Okay. Come down with me, but remain behind. She'll need help- especially if Bellatrix is there."

Both dark-cloaked Slytherins surged forward at the same moment.

* * *

><p>Caelia seemed to be holding her own rather well.<p>

The three Lestranges darted back and forth, wands flicking out and up, spells dancing over the battlefield like a children's carnival. The scent of ozone hung in the air; carbon burns striped the stone walkway to the Manor proper.

_The only reason I've survived this long is because I'm good at Transfiguration, _Caelia thought as she forced a wave of earth up into a dome, and warded it securely. _Better than them, I mean._

_I seriously hope Severus and Regulus come down here. I can't do this for much longer, not without…_

_…well. I did say the Lestranges deserved to die._

_Time for the kid gloves to come off._

Tunneling in, she vanished the earth ahead of her as quickly as she could. The dome would last for some time, but such large-scale transfiguration was power-draining, too. She could only do one more of those before she exhausted her power.

Then, a thought flicked through her head.

It leapt and was gone in less than an instant, but the idea remained. _Only when everything else is exhausted._

Leaping out, she flourished her wand in a sonic-boom of a wave. The nearest Lestrange brother didn't even have the chance to scream, before he was torn in two. The other two managed to throw up shields, but Caelia had already achieved what she'd wanted.

_One down, two to go._

"You _bitch," _Rabastan Lestrange breathed, moving forward unsteadily. "That was my _brother!"_

Caelia kept her face blank. The lack of emotion seemed to incense him even more.

"Crucio!"

Shards of rock rose under her direction, shielding her body from the worst of it. The pieces were banished before he could follow up, directly at him. He stumbled back, roaring in pain. Then Bellatrix was there, and all cold fury dissolved in a rush of, _turn here, go there, don't stumble!_

_Where are you, Regulus?_

A moment later, she knew what she wanted to do. A bruising curse, one that was notorious for not having any shield- one that she had modified.

_Rule number three of dueling: Shock will kill your opponent faster than almost anything else._

Modifications were strange bits of magic. They required grace and knowledge, and an innate need for the spell to work. Because most people had multiple shields, this particular one wasn't as useful as it could be; only the most arrogant could be caught under its affects.

Bellatrix was one of them.

So confident was she in her abilities, she rarely put up a shield if she didn't have to.

And the color Caelia had made her spell was the harmless red of a stunner. Bellatrix put up the standard Protego, not even dancing out of the way. Then the spell went through, and she barely had time to widen her eyes in shock before she was struck.

Both of them were doubled over in pain, though Rabastan seemed to be recovering. Neither Longbottom knew what had happened yet- the wards hadn't been tripped on either side. While that was lucky in some ways- Frank and Alice had no love for her at the best of times- it was unlucky in others- there didn't seem to be help for her yet.

Sighing, she advanced and raised her wand, ready to send out an area-level stunner, and…

"_Crucio."_

…the world dissolved in pain.

* * *

><p><strong>I should be more sorry for stopping at cliffhangers. Sadly, I love to build up tension, and find that this is the best way to do so. However, that said- did anyone remember that I've forgotten a character? <strong>

**This chapter is longer than I usually like them to be, and I seriously considered breaking it up into other sections. Then the words just kept flowing, and I... I really wanted to finish it. But, this part seemed a good place to stop. Also, to prod some thinking, what exactly is Caelia's condition? I haven't really said it properly; I think it was one sentence in a previous chapter. But... she has her reasons for saving Alice and Frank, and they aren't all altruistic, either. Keep that in mind.**

**Also, celestines are pretty minerals that are bluish-white, which is pretty much what I thought Regulus' eyes would look like. Next chapter should be longer than this one- it isn't finished yet, so bear with me- and deals with the end of this battle and Sirius' reaction.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys made me finish this _way _ahead of schedule!**

**Reviews do inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	14. Chapter 14: lightning falling pieces

**Also, later in this chapter, there is prolonged usage of curse words. I wanted to edit some of this out, but Sirius is just that kind of a character... it's there. If any younger readers are here, please know that this is not a common usage for me. If any older readers are offended by this, I'm sorry. I try to keep my writing in line with my characters, and this happens to be what Sirius is like, at least in my head...**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Last Chapter:<strong>_

_…the world dissolved in pain._

* * *

><p>Pain. It was all she knew, all she ever knew, all she would ever know. It painted the world in tints of hazy white- and wasn't that supposed to be <em>red<em>?- and fluttered around her. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, but even that knowledge was fleeting.

_:Breathe, love.:_ A hand traced something down her back, and she just barely didn't flinch. The voice seemed sad, the weight comforting. _:You will not die, Caelia. We will not allow it. _

_You have enemies in both worlds, cariad. But never forget that you have allies, as well.:_

_Who- who are you?_ Caelia whispered it into the wind.

The voice chuckled. _:A friend. You and your unborn child- we will not let you come to harm. Friends are coming, but they will be too late. To win this battle, you shall have to use your wits.:_

_Can't you help me?_

_:No. We are protecting _you._ Even that will not last long. But you have everything you need to protect yourself-:_

_The Longbottom magic, you mean._

_:Exactly.:_

_Thank you,_ she thought_. I am in your debt._

_:No debt, cariad. Only love. And remembrance. Do not forget your past, and you shall always have a future. Go, now! Your window lessens.:_

Slowly, the world returned. The man who'd held her under the Cruciatus had stepped aside, had moved to embrace the other man-

-and he'd forgotten to take away her wand.

Fury sliced away her reservations. Caelia had the power to do this; she had the ability. And if there was one magic people like the Lestranges could not understand, it was this.

Old Magic. Weather Magic.

Unconscious Magic.

The strings of magic from the wards, surrounding the house were plucked at, tugged together and wound down. The dance flickered to a halt for a brief moment when she felt the strength of it, attached to a man inside. A simple tug unraveled the connection easily enough.

_I mean you no harm,_ she cooed to the magic. _Come to me and defeat the evil here, come to me…_

And the magic came.

Little strands of lightning danced across her fingers, lifting higher and higher. The magic pooled around her, first establishing a circle, then leaping to her hands, then arching into the sky. The actinic burn across her hands didn't even register.

Eyes half-closed, Caelia manipulated the magic around her and under her, the magic hanging in the air, to arc it higher. Every bit of unused magic, every slightest edge of unwashed spell that had ever hit the grounds. They all came where she called, and added to the magic.

Had Caelia been able to see herself, she would have called herself an ethereal being. The ozone burn had scalded her hair, lighting her face up in glittering shades of blue.

She'd never known that blue could be so _violent._

Her hair was fairly lifting to the sky, the dome of electricity surrounding her only strengthening with each spell splashed against it by terrified Death Eaters. The magic circled higher with each passing moment, and all she could think was of the end.

Lightning pierced the sky from the wrong end, and it was torn apart in a scream of merciless rage.

Rabastan Lestrange didn't have a chance in hell. A bolt swung into him from an edge, and he was electrocuted in seconds. Bellatrix's scream of rage and fear gave her a moment to reorient, and then the women was struck.

_Do not give in to the power._

A sharp green spell impacted her shield, and she felt the strength grow exponentially. _Avada Kedavra._

Caelia laughed, and it was hysterical. They could not kill her- only she could, and only if she surrendered to the magic. Hands trembling with the effort of holding the spells, she waited. Breathless, the pressure mounted. Slowly, she was driven to one knee, then both.

_I am Atlas, _Caelia thought, between dregs of strength. _But I am not chained._

Bellatrix was going to be killed.

_No. Call it what it is, Caelia. You will murder her and smile._

Then-

-_"Caelia!" _Regulus' voice tore across the clearing.

_"Black?" _Another's voice, a stranger's voice. Familiar- why was she connected to her, why-

-a strand of white tied their wrists together. Life debts… Caelia closed her eyes and tried not to weep.

"What are you doing?" Regulus moved forward, slowly. A stray bolt threw up dust around him, but he didn't scream. "Caelia?"

_Stay away, _she wanted to say. _I'm not safe!_

But he kept moving forward, inexorably. "Caelia?"

"I will hurt you. Move back, and let me kill them."

The words were monotonous, but matched perfectly with a screech of tearing metal on the grounds. Regulus didn't- _quite- _flinch.

"Kill them, and then yourself?" He snorted. "Don't be a martyr, _sister. _It doesn't suit you."

"I've nothing left."

"You've got a daughter and a family. You have everything to live for."

"Step aside, Regulus." Caelia finally whispered.

"No."

Clenching her hands tightly, not caring about the burns striping her forearms, she threw her head back. Pressure mounted relentlessly against her palms, and, finally, she threw them up. Lightning streaked the sky, an electric storm the likes of which had rarely been seen before.

The shield around her faded with each breath, until it was barely visible.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The scream leapt glittering green death at her brother in all but blood, and Caelia felt rage the likes of which she'd never known before rise up in her.

A fulmination struck him where he stood, the dying gasp of the power she'd held. And she felt herself slump forward.

The last thing she knew, before blessed darkness took her, was cold rain splashing around her, tears from a heaven she'd torn in two.

* * *

><p>She came to, slowly- water tumbled down to the small of her back and filtered through the wool of her cloak.<p>

Alice Longbottom was screaming, a dull sound she dismissed as soon as she identified it. Frank was white, wand out and pointed at the ground, as if he didn't know who to aim at.

_There are three dead men in this field, and one of them is alive. Did you expect them _not _to be shocked?_

Regulus was checking the men.

Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were dead, she knew that; the mysterious man she hadn't known was probably unconscious. Bellatrix was bound tightly against the ground and was shouting soundlessly into a gag.

Then Severus was there, hands warm on her freezing skin. His expression was blank, but his eyes held concern, and she let herself be borne upwards. Two casualties leaned against one another, withered trees depending for support.

"Okay?" His voice was very precise.

She didn't answer. Severus didn't deserve lies, not from her, and she didn't want to tell him exactly how badly she felt at that moment. Her skin was glacial, her hands trembling. The burns around her forearms were a raw red, like uncooked steak.

"Caelia?" Severus remained quiet, but sounded more worried.

She shook her head sharply. "Not now."

He dropped it immediately, and she was thankful that at least he could comprehend her sharpness. Turning away- though she kept a strong grip on his shoulder- she saw Alice drop to her knees, watching Regulus drop the hooded man with something like disgust.

Turning away, he picked his way closer to them.

"The third man is Barty Crouch's son," he told them grimly.

Caelia recoiled. Severus, too, stiffened. "Oh my god," she whispered. "We're all dead, aren't we?"

"No." Regulus looked morbidly amused. "Because he's still alive, and his wand is still intact, and we have evidence for his attempt to kill me. He'll get the Dementor's Kiss for sure."

Severus shivered. "No," he murmured, just loud enough for Caelia to hear. Then, louder, "No. We can't do that, Regulus. I was in Azkaban for _three days- _and I was willing to kill myself to stop from going back. Playing with souls, that's not something _any _of us have the right to do. You said the Dark Lord made Horcruxes; I'm not going to let any of us be broken in the afterlife because one of decided to play god."

"What, are you going to stop them?" Regulus asked flatly. "They'll crucify you as a supporter of the Dark Lord and you'll never survive to see morning!"

"No," Severus snarled. "I'll kill him myself."

Silence.

Regulus raised his wand slowly. "Are you sure he isn't delirious?" He asked Caelia incredulously.

"Better to kill him now than risk letting it out later," she said quietly.

"Both of you are delusional!" He cried.

Slowly stepping away from her, Severus moved forward. "We have enough evidence from his wand," he told Regulus levelly.

"You say you don't want to play god but you are willing to _kill him? _What's wrong with you- with both of you?"

Caelia tightened a hand around her wand. "Don't insult us, Regulus."

"I'll-"

"Enough talk." Severus slid to the left, and moved closer to the bound Crouch. Caelia raised her wand and pointed it at Regulus.

He paled in response.

"Severus-"

"That's enough, Reg." Caelia knew she looked cold, her eyes hard. "There are some things that need to be taken care of."

"Fine," Regulus snapped, finally stepping aside. "But so help me, if you try to do that to Bellatrix- I will tear you two apart."

Neither of them answered, but they were both aware: family meant a lot to Regulus; he'd never forgive either of them if they tried to hurt her.

The tableau might have continued, had Frank not stepped forward, eyes blazing. "What the fucking _hell _are the three of you talking about, you-"

Severus tapped Crouch with his wand, and the man began to writhe for a moment, body brightening into a frightening halo for a few, brief moments. He slumped over seconds later.

"Anima Revelio," he incanted slowly. The man didn't twitch. Severus spoke slowly. "He's dead."

Alice began to keen, louder. Frank's wand was pointed at Severus, his face pallid with shock. "You _killed _him!"

Caelia moved towards Alice, though she kept her wand pointed away from her. None of them were ready for _another _spell-battle.

"Listen to me, Prewett," she hissed lowly. "_Listen _to me!"

Alice turned and looked at her, tears streaming down to pool at her chin.

Caelia took a deep breath. "You owe me."

"No, I don't." Alice whispered. "You owed me a life debt, and you just paid it back. We're even now, and the next time you ask me for something-"

"I saved your son and your husband. You think three lives are worth the same as one? What delusions are you working under, Prewett?"

"I-"

Caelia didn't let her interrupt. "Listen to me. I want your words of honor- from your life debts- to never tell a person about this. If you do so- _if- _none of us will ever talk about this either."

Alice faltered. "I can't-" she threw a helpless glance at her husband.

"You and your husband would be heroes. To the MLE, you would have defeated them, after you were hurt. This was all in… self-defense."

"Caelia-"

"_Don't call me that." _Even Severus sent her a startled look at that. Forcing away fury, she sighed. "Prewett- I've paid my debt. I also have your husband's and your son's debts on _me. _All I'm asking for- and you _know _I could have asked for land, or money, or your thrice-damned mother's _head on a platter, _and you wouldn't have had a choice but to give it to me. All I'm asking for is your silence. So… either give it, or I'll force it from them and obliviate you until you're nothing more than a mushy bag of bones."

Alice Longbottom blanched to the consistency of snow. "Fine. You have our word. Now _leave."_

Caelia nodded. "Send a Patronus to your husband's mother. She'll likely be… worried."

Alice stumbled over to her husband instead of answering. Shrugging, Caelia walked away.

"Let's go home."

* * *

><p>Sirius couldn't remember ever being so angry.<p>

_How dare she! How dare-fucking-she! _He was pacing back and forth, and in his wake, items tossed around like so many feathers in a dust storm. _I can't even- she _knows _how much I hate him; she _knew _my _brother _was alive- _

_-I'll kill her._

"I'll kill her," he said aloud, feeling the oily slip of the words across his tongue. It felt like a kiss, like coming home from a long day and getting a thank-you and a hug. "I'll _fucking kill her." _

The wards around the house trembled, lightly, and he stalked out, wrath forcing away any reservations he might have had. Turning the corner, he got a good view of the three stragglers.

"Snivellus is coming into my home," he breathed bitterly. "I can't believe it!"

All three were pale, stumbling over their shoes and biting phrases swirling through the air like snow in a storm. Caelia was draped in a long, wet cloak that dripped water around her; Regulus in a black coat that emphasized his pallor; Snivellus in a too-long overcoat that must have been given to him to hide his prisoner robes.

Caelia stiffened suddenly, eyes fixating on the door clearer than they should have at that distance. A sharp word silenced both of her companions, and they trekked closer quietly.

"Well," Sirius sneered when they were close enough to hear, "are you happy now? Consorting with the _enemy?"_

Caelia arched an eyebrow. "I have never claimed Severus to be my enemy, Sirius."

"You-"

"Perhaps we should take… this inside," she murmured.

"Yes, perhaps we should." Sirius glared.

She stepped forward, but Snivellus caught her arm, and muttered something to her seriously. She seemed to try for a smile- her lips twitched into a ghastly parody of one- but when she failed she simply turned away.

"I'll see you soon," she told them quietly. "Wait in the parlor?"

They agreed, and she followed him to his study.

* * *

><p>There were muffled exclamations coming from the study; Caelia had closed the doors, so both of them could only <em>just <em>hear Sirius' fury.

Both of them were still recovering, from shock and betrayal, and were slumped over mugs of hot coco de mer tea- a plant that Severus had barely heard of.

The tea was thick and rich, almost like a stew; Regulus had revealed a hidden cache of Firewhiskey in one of the cupboards and proceeded to pour a heady amount into his cup. Neither of them looked good, he was sure- Caelia was the worst off of them all, though, and she was facing her raging husband in the opposite room.

He'd almost gone to open it, to tell stupid _Black _that his wife needed to sit down and rest, to try and _recover _from nearly killing herself, but Regulus had grabbed his arm.

"Slytherin," he said very seriously. "Don't walk in there if you want her as your friend, Severus. She'll never forgive you, not for seeing her weakness."

He'd agreed reluctantly.

And, while there had been times when shouts had penetrated the door, on the whole it had been quieter than he'd expected. The silence was numbing him- he could feel the shadowy nightmares of both Azkaban waiting for his natural barriers to drop.

_I'll scream tonight, _he thought, exhausted. _I'll scream and bleed and weep, and if any other sees the pain I will shatter myself anew. I need some time to recover… I need a _lot _of time to recover._

Stealing a glance at the boy across from him- because that was what Regulus _was, _a young boy who was caught in the chess-games of masters, and unable to bear being a pawn, he broke the rules- Severus sighed. Regulus was thin and weary, no doubt from the drama of the day. Yet, somehow, he wasn't _broken. _He had still protected Caelia, had still listened to them.

_At eighteen, he's more mature than I am now. What-_

The door burst open, and both of them leapt to their feet.

"_I hate him!" _Sirius was screaming, and his wand was pointed at Caelia, who was very, very white. His voice suddenly dropped becoming vicious instead of insane- Sirius at his most dangerous. "I am your _husband-"_

Her face paled, even further- which Severus hadn't thought possible- and she closed her eyes. "'I am the Lord, your God,'" she whispered, words stilted but bitter. "'And you shall kneel.' That is what the muggles believe, _husband. _Tell me- is that what you want?" Her eyes opened, and the calmness in them froze Sirius. "Me on my knees, Severus under your wand, Regulus _dead?_

_"_If that… is truly your wish, I will make it happen." She remained still, but, as a wind building force, Severus could see the turmoil under the surface. "But if there is even a _breath, _of doubt, I will tear everything I can from you." She stepped forward. "Is that what you want?"

Silence filled the room.

"_Get away from me," _Sirius finally spat, face twisting into a rictus of disgust.

Both Regulus and Severus sprang forward, ready to catch Caelia and pull her away-

-Sirius reached for his family magic, eyes alit in a manic fervor-

-Caelia flung her arms high and cried something, in a harsh-sounding language-

-and the world burst into pretty shards around all of them.

_I guess I won't be dreaming of Azkaban tonight, _was Severus' last thought before he blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow. This is the longest chapter yet, and I wrestled a lot with it. Um... coco de mer is a plant found in the Seychelles that's a 'double-coconut' plant, which means that it has a really weird seed structure. Before the Seychelles were found, these giant seeds would wash up on coasts in Malaysia and Indonesia, and were considered to have magic properties. Even today, the germination process for the trees is unknown.<strong>

**Caelia owed a life debt to Alice. There will be more on that later. And if anyone can tell me who was protecting Caelia when she was under the Cruciatus... you'll get a shoutout in the next chapter! Caelia quotes the Bible later in the chapter. Next chapter: they all dream.**

**Reviews inspire me... (last chapter didn't seem all that interesting to most of you. Any constructive criticism?)**

**-Dialux**


	15. Chapter 15: Interlude (dripping dreams)

**Interlude (Regulus):**

* * *

><p>Regulus dreamed of a long-lost future.<p>

_His mother smiles at him, gives him a warm hug and a loving kiss… His father presses a hand on his shoulder, brilliantly proud… Sirius defends him from his Marauder friends… Caelia sits on a checkered blanket, sipping wine and Cassia twirls around him, on a warm summer beach… Mary MacDonald-_

He jerks awake, heart beating at triple its normal pace.

Even in unconsciousness, he cannot believe in love.

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude (Severus):<strong>

* * *

><p>Severus dreamed of his past.<p>

_"Who so votes, to acquit the accused?" Albus' voice boomed through the chamber._

_Hands raised around him, though he couldn't see whether Lily was one of them or not. _

_"You are free to go," Albus said, almost gentle. It irritated him, his presumption, that Severus was hurting and broken. The chains clattered to the floor when he raised his wand, and Severus wasted no time in hunting through the crowd for Lily Ev…_

_Potter. It was Potter, now, and for that name and nothing else he would hate himself forever._

_"Lily!" Her red mane of hair was unmistakable, at least to him. Yet… she was bookended by Potter and Black, her green eyes shining with nothing resembling regret. "How- how did you find-"_

_"Are you happy now, Snape?" Black's eyes glittered maliciously. "Are you happy with _my _wife, now, you-"_

_"Finish that sentence, Black, and I'll-"_

_"That's _enough." _Lily stepped between them. "Sirius, just- just go. James, love, follow him, will you?" She turned to him, and he could see the pain in her eyes._

_"Lily-"_

_"We aren't friends, Severus. Not after everything- not after you called me _Mudblood. _I can't-" Lily's voice leapt in righteous anger; a Gryffindor on a crusade._

_He could only watch, helpless, as she worked herself into one, but then-_

_-"Listen to the circumstances of his words, Lady Potter." Regulus stepped in, eyes cold and unforgiving. "He was being threatened with something you cannot even _begin _to imagine. He was being threatened with sexual abuse- what, do you think you are the only one who listens to muggle news? I know what sexual abuse is, and stripping someone forcibly falls under that act._

_"Let's not even go into their other bullying; had Severus told anyone in our house the depths of their hatred, the actions they had taken against him- well. Rest assured, Lady Potter, had we known, you would be short one husband and one godfather."_

_"How dare you!" Lily looked furious._

_Regulus, in the classic Slytherin manner, became colder. "How-"_

_"Regulus," Severus whispered. "That's enough. Let's go-"_

_"No!" Lily almost shouted, but then Potter returned. _

_He looked at them warily, before catching Lily's hands in a strong grip. Severus' knuckles went white, though he didn't say anything more. _

_"Perhaps you should leave," Potter mumbled._

_"Yes." Regulus' face was pale with suppressed fury. "We shall. Good day, Lord Potter. Lady Potter." His bow was less than perfunctory._

_Severus just watched, sadly, as they walked away. "I loved her," he whispered, but the crowd jostled him, and the words didn't quite make it out._

_Regulus dragged him to Caelia, and then they were on their way to the Longbottoms._

When Severus woke up, it was to salt on his face. He magicked it away as soon as he got his hands on his wand, but the bitter tang on his tongue didn't fade for a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude (Caelia):<strong>

* * *

><p>Caelia dreamed of a could-have-been future.<p>

_Dark hair tumbled down Cassia's back, waves of midnight sky. She smiled and waved; her hands cupped her mother's face like a warm day's sun._

_"I love you," she whispered into her mother's skin. "You gave me _everything, _Mother. I will love you to the ends of the earth. None love you more than me."_

_Caelia smiled. "And your sister, love? Does she not love me as much?"_

_Cassia threw her head back and laughed. "I've known you for longer. Ergo, I love you more!"_

_"I don't think it works like that, Cassia."_

_"Then you know nothing of love!"_

_Laughing together- though there was little enough that was funny in their conversation- they sank together, hands and hair and cloth intertwining on a small, grassy knoll; it was impossible to know where one began and the other ended._

Caelia woke up to her daughter's damp, heavy weight in her arms. She smiled, almost bittersweet, and buried her head in Cassia's neck.

And if her shoulders shook a little more than they were supposed to, there was no one there to notice.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the next chapter... And the last of the pre-written ones. I will scale back the updates to update as soon as I finish writing. So, with this one, I officially broke my word-length record. I'm quite happy about that, actually, because this one is far more fleshed out and smooth. I hope y'all like it!<strong>

**(Yes, I did update twice in one day. I am bedridden, with pneumonia, meaning that I can't do anything stressful. Resultantly, I turned to writing!)**

**This chapter is just a series of dreams that Caelia/Severus/Regulus have, while struck unconscious from the end of the last chapter. It's a lot shorter than I expected; I had a couple other interludes written that I wanted to add, but they don't work. Mostly, they're going to have to wait for the next book... Next chapter will actually advance the plot, promise.**

**Reviews do inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	16. Chapter 16: sunlit family

"Where's Black?"

"Hello to you, too, Severus," Caelia said dryly.

He arched an eyebrow. "You look like shit."

And she _did. _Her hair hung limply, with none of its normal luster; her eyes were red and raw, as if she had been crying; her skin was pale.

"Thanks," she responded. "You know _just _how to compliment a girl that she feels confident about her image." Rolling her eyes, she gestured to a bowl of fruit beside her. "Breakfast's ready. If you want anything else, just ask."

"Not like you need any more confidence, Derwent," he responded acerbically.

She rolled her eyes again. "Was that a compliment, _Snape?" _When he didn't answer, she smirked.

He tilted a smile back at her, and they ate in a companionable silence.

"Where's Black?" He asked again.

Caelia hesitated for a brief moment. "Sirius… left. He wasn't caught in the backlash as much as the three of us, and he recovered quicker. According to the house elves, he left around five."

Severus snorted. "Earliest the dunderhead probably _ever _got up."

"Don't be mean."

"You're going to _defend _him?" He asked, disbelieving. "After last _night? _Caelia- dammit, you know how badly it could have gone! I still don't know how we survived! Black could have brought the house down around us- I'm honestly not sure why he _didn't!"_

"Calm down, Severus," she said levelly. "And… there's a reason. Maybe it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but there _is _a reason." At his black glare, she continued. "The Black family magic responds to me."

_"What?" _Severus asked, voice strangled. "Did you just-"

"Yes. The Black family magic- all family magics need someone to attach to, Severus! They _need _a wielder. And Sirius wasn't one. He never could be one, because he _hated _his magic. He preferred to pretend it didn't exist, and magic doesn't really _like _that. I guess… I was a good replacement."

"When was the first time you found you could use it?"

"When the Aurors came into my home." Caelia reached a hand out, captured his fingers in a light grasp. "I think I used it before- when I gave birth to Cassia. I shouldn't have been able to recover from the dreamscape so easily. I was… surprised. But it's different, for every person, and I _needed _to survive. Magic… it gives, Severus. You know that. Wish magic is the most powerful magic we know of, because that is the basic _nature _of magic."

"I know the tales," Severus said brusquely. He stared down at their interlocked fingers. "But why didn't you tell someone-"

"Who?" She asked gently. There was a smile at the corner of her lips, but her blue eyes were sad. "Regulus? I was terrified for my _life, _Severus. I didn't know who to trust. You? If you'd gone and told You-Know-Who, well, I don't even want to think about the _hell _my life would've been."

"You really think so little of me, do you?" He rose, eyes glittering in both hurt and anger.

She tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and lifted her head, meeting him perfectly. "I saved you," she said lowly. "Don't you _dare _make that a lesser sacrifice than it deserves. I've seen you, Severus Snape! I've seen the way you revel in breaking every shard of trust people place in you! Did you think you could do that to _me? _I _made you who you are!_

"I have pawns and queens, knights and kings, on every side of this board," she whispered. "It doesn't matter whether they were black or white, or black-turned-white. No matter which side won, I lost."

"Don't worry," Regulus said flatly, walking in. "I am not a Horatius, to kill you."

"I am glad that my life is safe in your hands," she deadpanned back. Severus let out a rough bark of laughter, and the tension in the room evaporated.

_Sometimes, _he thought, amused and tired all at once, _I love these two._

* * *

><p>Caelia glanced critically at Regulus.<p>

His face was calmer, especially after a good night's sleep, and handsomer in the golden light, the sharp planes of his face softened and the harsh edges of his body smoothened.

_So he really did get a good night's sleep. I was worried… unnecessarily, it seems._

"Food's on the table," she murmured, rising to fix a cup of tea. Mint was a very good herb for stress-relief, and when mixed with rosemary, it had both an intoxicating scent and a light taste. The boost in caffeine was also the only thing keeping her magic-use headache from increasing exponentially.

Taking the steaming cup back to a cushy armchair, she folded herself in, an origami crane, until she was hunched over the cup, almost awkwardly. Within seconds, she seemed to lose herself in the tea, basking in the sunlight pouring around the chair.

* * *

><p>Severus left seconds later, mumbling something about potions, while Regulus shifted in his chair. The room was very… tasteful, he decided, with none of Black ostentatiousness that defined every other house. Tall bay windows let in brilliant sunshine, lighting up the room in gold-white, and highlighting the simplistic Oriental rugs she'd chosen for the room.<p>

_It doesn't scream 'I'm rich, look at me!' but it is… certainly not… a room for commoners._

He wondered if Sirius had ever realized exactly how much influence Caelia'd had on his life.

And, above all, it was _peaceful. _In a way he hadn't quite imagined possible, not after desperate pleading and vicious recriminations. Not after he'd seen his brothers-in-law being killed, _especially _not after Sirius had tried to turn the family magic back on Caelia.

He sighed, lightly, putting down his spoon. "This is the calm before the storm, isn't it?"

Caelia didn't answer for a moment, before shifting outward and rolling her shoulders fluidly. "You have no idea. Lonny!" A small house elf popped into existence. "Do you mind getting the Daily Prophet for us?"

"No, Miss!" She squeaked and returned a second later, giving it to her. Caelia tossed it onto the table without checking it.

Regulus choked.

On the front edge of the paper, emblazoned bold and bright, was a weeping Sirius. _Jilted, Obnoxiously_ the title read, and he felt a deep-seated indignation rise in him.

"How dare he," he hissed, but Caelia only snorted.

"Look at the actual article," she told him. "It's a piece of trash; if anyone in high society believes him, I'll eat my hat. What's even worse for him is that he's just put his reputation on the line with this, but…"

Regulus felt his lips twitch, amused against his will. "But soon his entire name is going to be dragged down into the dirt."

She nodded lazily.

"How are you, Caelia?" He asked her seriously. She had just broken ties with her husband, but she seemed better than he'd expect.

"Good enough," Caelia shrugged lightly, stiffening. She said quietly, "and yourself?"

"I… guess… I need some time. Especially after yesterday, I mean."

"We shouldn't have done that, yesterday, Reg," she went on. "I shouldn't have raised my wand at you. But… there were things that needed to be done. Crouch's son was a wild card, and there's no room in our lives for a wild card- not now."

Regulus shifted. "He didn't deserve death."

"But he deserved a fate worse than one?"

"No!" He sighed. "It's complicated."

"Exactly." Caelia smiled wryly. "There's a lot-"

"I think I need to leave," he interrupted.

"What?" She asked blankly.

"I've spent my whole life waiting and fearing and hoping, and I… need a break," he said carefully, "I want to learn, Caelia. I want to see other people, other cultures! I want to see how different people can be, and how similar- and it isn't like I'm lacking for money. I can pay my own way; I'm the official Heir to the Black family, and you know that means that I'll have money wherever I go."

Her hands trembled slightly. "Regulus- I can't recommend this action, not truly. There's too much going on here, now- we need a strong base, or we'll be-"

"Can't you see, that's why I have to go!" He leapt up, pacing agitatedly. "I don't understand, not really, your reasons. You pointed your wand at me so Severus could kill a man, and I just… don't accept it. I can't, not without a reason." He took a breath; cut himself off as if it burned to continue.

"And saving all our lives isn't enough?"

Regulus shook his head. "No," he whispered.

She exhaled, sharp. "Fine. You have two days, Reg." She turned away, tracing her hand down the silk cushions. "Then I tell. Everyone." She turned around, met his eyes. "But please say bye- to both of us, Reg. We can't sleep if we don't know that you're safe, too."

"You aren't my mother."

"It isn't like it takes that much," she retorted immediately, but she was smiling, so he counted it a victory.

* * *

><p>Regulus left, a day later- and Caelia sighed bitterly as he walked out. There was a media storm just waiting for her to appear in public; she had to speak to the Longbottoms about shutting Lestrange up- they couldn't afford to leave loose ends lying about, and she was certainly one <em>loose <em>loose end; the sisters Black were waiting for a reason for her actions, and in general people were really tired after the end of the war.

"I'm headed to Gringotts," she told Severus quietly. "You'll be okay, right, taking care of Cassia?"

And Severus... wasn't. The last kid he'd held was when he was eleven, and a harried mother had pushed a child into his arms for a brief moment before yanking him away and apparating; he'd had half a mind to be insulted before he realized that the lady probably didn't even realize she'd been offensive.

"Don't be a bore," she told him archly, though her eyes glittered lightly. Severus recognized the humor in them, and sighed silently. Slytherin humor was so dry and subtle most others didn't recognize it, but Severus was a master- he could definitely identify the gleam of sadistic glee at his awkwardness.

"I'm not a... _bore," _he responded acidly. "I'm simply- _uncomfortable- _at taking care of a child I'm not qualified to-"

She smiled slowly. "You'll have house elves."

"Hmph."

Shaking her head, Caelia walked away from him.

Amusement dripped away from her; everyone knew that Gringotts wasn't the place for laughter. One finished one's business, and fled the depths, without looking too closely at the blood dripping from the goblins' gums. It was too... dangerous... to peer into their hearts and minds, especially after three goblin wars- called rebellions but truly _wars- _had decimated the magical population of Britain more than three Dark Lords.

At least Dark Lords had some semblance of sanity- they wanted to _rule _over people, not completely _annihilate _them. Goblins, on the other hand...

Caelia shivered. Nobody wanted to be the one to cause the next war, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't imagine that I could get this out today. However, I'm still bedridden, and didn't really want to work on my apps. Procrastinator's ahoy! <strong>

**We shall rule the world. Someday.**

**Ahem. Anyways, all jokes aside, this chapter starts the next arc of the story. Though it's mainly fluff- I honestly wanted to write some, especially after so _much _action in Ch.14, so, seeing as I am the author, I decided to. I know last chapter was disappointing to some of you. Chapter 15 was a filler chapter; it still holds important info, though. No guesses on Caelia's protector yet, either... **

**Stuff in the chapter: Regulus references a historical family known as the Horatii. For more info, visit wiki. It's a godsend to authors. The title _Jilted, Obnoxiously, _is a play on the quote by Paula Garland. Nothing else, here. **

**Next chapter: The Prewett twins come into play. (Yes, I'm going to kill off all the major canon characters and leave only the ones killed before the series began by the end of this fic.)**

**Reviews inspire me! (Come on, guys. I'm on, like, 2000 views on this _yesterday, _but only two reviews? Come on!)**

**-Dialux**


	17. Chapter 17: windfalls of betrayal

_Gringotts is… empty. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. _Caelia glanced at herself in the mirror. She'd shifted her features subtly, but looks didn't matter- not to a race that had never had much interest in differentiating human looks.

_Still. Don't underestimate them. They are powerful creatures, despite the immense chasm between our beliefs. And you can't really afford enemies, Caelia. Not now, and not ever._

The goblin at the counter waved her through, almost bored, and Caelia went docilely. No reason to trip alarms that didn't have to be- her wand was in her pocket, and no harm would come to her yet.

"Hello, Noogam," she said clearly, "it is a pleasure to see you."

"Indeed," he returned blandly. "Please drop some blood into that vial, Lady Black."

She hesitated, then remembered the old children's rhyme:

_"Thoughts before words, blood after all._

_"Words before vows, Vows before truth_

_"Truth before blood, but blood after all._

_He'll use my blood to determine who I am… Can't quite say I'm happy with that._

Her movements carried none of her hesitancy, though, and the routine check was carried out efficiently. Then- a _peculiar _emotion filtered through his blank expression, and Caelia felt her heart leap into her throat.

"What is it," she asked, verging on disinterested.

He raised his head and frowned. "You no longer have access to the Black family vaults, Lady Black. I've no idea who…"

"Don't bother," Caelia said distantly, feeling incandescent rage boil through her. "I know _exactly _who has."

_You want to play like _this, _Sirius? Fine. Only bad thing is that you don't understand what I can do. You don't have last say over financial decisions in the Black family. _Regulus _does. And if I were truly cruel- I'd take every penny from the vaults today. Instead, because I want to keep Regulus happy, I'm going to do something rather… _drastic.

"Tell me, Noogam. How fast can you contact a Head of House?"

Noogam arched a brow. "Anywhere across the world- it will take from ten minutes to an hour."

Caelia smiled, a savagely satisfied smile. "Then do so. It's time to lock my… _ex… _husband out of his vaults."

* * *

><p>Regulus came- and while he expressed indignation, she refused to allow him to reinstate her.<p>

"I'll make my own way; I have my own ideas," she told him firmly, brooking no argument. "Just keep _him _out."

Regulus nodded fiercely. "He won't be recognized as Black Head by the end of the day, Caelia. If people recognize that he's a _pureblood, _he should count his lucky stars."

They both exchanged matching, Slytherin smirks.

* * *

><p><em>Misters Prewett,<em>

_I hear that it is a lovely day in Liverpool. I hope that the pub is to your liking? However- two innovative, ambitious wizards such as yourselves should not be wasting your talent on those who cannot appreciate it. Come to the Hog's Head Inn tomorrow night, and I'll personally make it worth your while. After all, what does it matter, where your alcohol comes- or from whom?_

_Sincerely,_

_A Budding Entrepreneur._

_Post Script: I would so hate to have to do this, but… needs must. Both of you owe me a life debt. Come to the inn, and I shall call it paid. Do not- and I'll see to it _personally _that you pay._

She smiled coolly as the bird left, and returned to her desk.

_A carrot, and a stick- all in the same sentence. Now _that, _is truly Slytherin._

_I shall see you tonight, gentlemen._

* * *

><p>Caelia moved into Hogs Head, letting the flowing movement of her cloak disguise her from the most obvious tells.<p>

She couldn't be found, at least not here and now. Women were rare enough in bars of such low quality; beautiful ones even more so. Eyes dragging over the patrons, she smirked at the two men crowded around a corner booth.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett?"

Both men gave a gratifying jump before turning to face her.

Vaguely, she remembered them- they were in the year above her in Hogwarts, and _Gryffindors; _she strongly suspected, though, that it was their idea of amusement that had influenced the Marauders in later years. Potter and Black had gotten particularly insufferable after they'd left.

Still, now, they were different. War had left its mark on them, as it had on most everyone. Their eyes weren't laughing but serious; their carriage was grim and loose- a dueler's pose. But best of all, they had sharp tongues and a complete allegiance to the Light.

Caelia'd saved them, though she hadn't known it at the time, by delaying Pettigrew.

_("I have to go," Pettigrew mumbled, eyes flicking from side to side. "Sirius told me to-"_

_"I don't _care, _Pettigrew," Caelia hissed furiously. The stupid man had stumbled over a bottle of _expensive _wine, and she was going to make him clean up the damn thing before he left. That he'd left his wand elsewhere was not going to affect her decision._

_Pettigrew was, in fact, on his way to deliver a message to the Prewetts. _

_Caelia had found out from Severus what was supposed to happen; she didn't connect the dots, however, until later.)_

And, while she'd called on a life debt to bring them to the booth, she needed more to keep them interested.

"I shall show my face to you," she murmured into a chipped glass. "But I would like a promise- not a Vow!" She said, hurriedly, seeing the look on their faces. "But a _promise, _that you won't reveal this to everyone."

"Even words have power in our world," one twin said.

"And cautiousness does not behoove Gryffindors," she replied archly. "Give a promise, or I leave and all hope of an independent franchise walks out the door with me."

"Independent franchise?" The other twin leaned forward. "Explain."

"Promises first."

They twitched, slightly, before glancing at each other. In a silent conversation- that she couldn't hope to decode- they seemed to come to a decision.

"You have our word," one said quietly. "Now-"

She pushed the cowl of her cloak back, and he fell silent in half-shock, half-dismay.

"Yes," she said levelly, smiling like a Cheshire cat. "I shall explain."

A few moments later, once their expressions of shock wore off- "Work three years for me. You will be given accommodations in a flat above the shop, and just about free run of the place. What you will be selling will, of course, be determined by me, but everything else will be your choice." She took a deep drink of the amber liquid, and hid a grin when they looked startled. "After that, I shall give you a choice: continue as workers, or begin your own franchise. I shall loan you money at a… rather _low _rate of interest, and you shall have the reputation of being good entrepreneurs already. A win-win, for all sides."

"Except for one thing," Fabian responded. "Why do this in the first place?"

"You know that most purebloods hate having to get their hands dirty; why-" Gideon was going to continue, but she interrupted.

"You do not need to know," Caelia said flatly.

Fabian bristled. "If we're going to work for you, I'd say we deserve to know why we're being hired!"

She glanced around, sighed, and capitulated gracefully. "You know Sirius threatened a divorce," she muttered. "He didn't like… what I did."

"You saved an innocent man," he replied, sounding outraged.

"To a Gryffindor, with a grudge?" Caelia asked acerbically. "I was lucky to survive to see morning."

_I can't believe it's this easy to manipulate them. And- it isn't _exactly _like it was just saving Severus. So much else came into play… I should be thanking my stars that Gryffindors see things in black and white._

"But- anyhow- he cut off my spending. If I don't do something soon, I'll have to sell some property." She shuddered delicately, smirked inside at their looks of confusion, "and end other- rather important- company investments. So… I'm here."

But then, Gideon- who had been steadily drinking his way through the bottle- stiffened. "You say- _Black?" _He slurred, "the… the- the one who che-che-_cheated _on you? W-" His hand swung wildly, and she almost lost her weary mien to amusement when the bottle landed on his lap. "With _McKinnon?"_

_Oh, yes, _Caelia realized, suddenly, a flash of insight burning away any lingering confusion. _Gideon Prewett and Marlene McKinnon had been friends, once upon a time, and then… they became lovers. After school? Doesn't matter. They were… engaged, too? Then she- I think- broke up with him a few weeks before their wedding._

_Sirius was her rebound._

_No wonder he hates Sirius. _Her eyes fluttered shut, hiding the gleam of calculation expertly. _Now how do I use it to my advantage?_

"Yes," she said softly. "That Black."

"Then we'll take the job!" He leapt up, scattering droplets of firewhiskey everywhere, and breaking the bottle.

Unable to hide her twitching lips, she rose and tossed a couple sickles onto the table. "Thank you, gentlemen."

Fabian Prewett's eyes followed her out, and she was almost out of the room when she heard him say, "Thank _you, _Derwent."

_Now, _she thought dryly, shaking flakes of snow off her hood and stamping her boots, _I just have to get Severus in on this venture._

* * *

><p><strong>Yes! Chapter 17 is out on time! And... I know I'm spoiling y'all. Honestly. Three chapters in three days? But let me explain: I have bits and pieces of this fic stuck on my computer. Like, random conversationsmoments that I found really interesting to write. So I only really had to write about five hundred words for this, and that was not too bad.**

**So, what did you guys think? I loved your reviews for last chapter- I'm ecstatic! Y'all are so nice- I'm sorry if some writings are slightly confusing: I'll try to clear it up next authors note.**

**Reviews do inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	18. Chapter 18: to dance with a limp

"No."

"Please?"

"_No."_

Caelia huffed, lightly, before stepping away. Severus was… busy. And she was tired. A week of non-stop action had worn down her nerves; small surprises left her gritting her teeth and hoping for patience.

_I need some time off. Some time to… relax. But Severus-_

He _didn't. _He was working on potions nearly all day- she suspected that if she hadn't hexed him into bed the other day, he'd _still _be working. He would brew himself into his grave someday, if she didn't tell him to stop.

_It's his way of grieving. Let him be, Caelia._

Turning away, she sank onto her bed, fully clothed. She faced her grief by playing with her daughter- or else she'd likely have been a weeping mess- but everyone faced their fears in a different manner. Severus did so by brewing; Regulus by running away. And… she was tired. Revenge and fear- _hatred and anger, _a small part of her mind whispered- were what had kept her going; now the exhaustion had had a chance to step in, and she didn't know if she could recover from the pain.

Ever.

_I don't understand how they survived, _she realized, _I can't understand how the Order could go on, after the McKinnon's death… the Bones' death…_

_Everybody there has lost somebody they cared about. Why the _hell _did they keep fighting?_

She traced a weary hand through pillows, feeling tears run down her cheeks, pooling at her chin. _I couldn't do it. I… bend- rarely. I will break before I bend, and that will likely be my death._

Curling up on her bed, she felt indescribably alone.

* * *

><p>"Caelia," he murmured, stopping the glass rod with one finger. "Fancy seeing you here."<p>

She rolled her eyes in response, but didn't answer him otherwise.

He had been- surprised- to say the least. Caelia had rarely dwelt on the bitter side of her life, in all the years he'd known her; she tended to take her emotions and channel them. Yet a few days ago- he'd rarely seen her so...

_Still- she's been broken before. What's different now… is that she's lost everything her childhood says she _should _want. She's facing the dichotomy in her beliefs. _

_I wonder if she's ever questioned them before now._

"I thought about your offer." Brilliant godsend it was, too- he'd been strongly considering just poisoning himself after a few weeks of the sheer misery his life had become. Guilt and uselessness didn't sit well with him- they never had- but he'd never have been so bold as to go out and look for a job himself.

_("You'll be a silent partner, Severus!" Caelia pleaded again. "You need something to…"_

_"I don't need _anything," _he spat back, exhausted beyond all control. "_Black."

_It was a curse and a slur- and she knew it. Hurt mingled with fury- touching on betrayal, which _did_ burn him- and she sat back._

_"Fine, _Snape. _Kill yourself in this lab. See if I give a damn!")_

"I'd like to be a silent partner," he told her, turning away from the dicing he'd finally finished. At her sharp intake, he held up a finger. "You'll be the owner. And you won't tell anyone who's supplying you with the potions."

"The Prewetts won't agree to that," she objected lightly. "I'll tell them- and no one else will be the wiser."

He hissed slightly in annoyance. "Tell a Gryffindor in morning, and the world will know by nightfall."

She smirked. His words had the cadence of an oft-told statement; that it was _Severus _telling her sayings, was near-hypocritical of him.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking near-ticked off. "Better than you."

"And all those times you told me that I was incapable of original thought, when I was throwing quotes at you- that's supposed to be _ignored?"_

"Of course not." A sardonic tilt of his head. "Except you were looking out for me, while I'm looking out for myself."

"You look… like a _cat, _when you smile like that."

He looked faintly horrified. "Please-"

"-McGonagall and Mrs. Norris are tossing in their beds, I'll bet you. A Slytherin, a cat?" She snickered when he shuddered. "But- that's where any sane person ought to be, now."

"It's three in the morning."

She arched an eyebrow. "Exactly."

"I'm an insomniac, you know."

"Get ye to bed, Severus. Or I'll sic all the magical kneazles in Britain on you!"

And their anger and hurt faded like morning fog touched by dawn.

* * *

><p>"The Malfoy ball is in a couple weeks," Severus told Caelia around a mouthful of toast.<p>

She tilted her head and hummed, but otherwise ignored him- she was completely focused on feeding Caelia.

Some small part of his brain registered that the scene could have been characterized as _disgustingly _domestic, and he almost leapt off his seat, repulsed. Severus Snape didn't _do _domestic. He was a Dark, cold-blooded murderer. _Everyone _knew that.

That was how he _liked _it.

Sitting at a table, sipping tea and eating breakfast while his best friend forced her daughter to eat wasn't his idea of murderous.

"The Malfoy ball…" He offered, again. "Caelia?"

She turned around, nearly upsetting a bowl precariously placed on the edge of Cassia's bouncy chair, and yelped. The unconscious recoil served to unbalance the utensils she'd thrown onto a rickety side table; Severus barely held in his choked laughter at her shriek when the fork landed, mush and all, on her foot. And the leap had brought her closer to him…

…his laughter soared to the sky when she twirled her wand at her foot, obviously aiming at the mush, but was drenched in water instead.

Catching her by the shoulder, he directed her to a chair. Mirth still shone in his eyes, though, and he knew better than to look at her if he could avoid it.

She was _undeniably _terrifying when she was angry.

"The Malfoy ball," he said _again. _"Are you going?"

The Malfoy ball. _The _event of the year; celebrated at the end of the year to represent new beginnings. Dark and Light were invited, one of the few times when political beliefs were lessened- when lines were blurred.

And she had an invitation. Perhaps…

She'd decided not to go, before. But- she still had a few weeks left, to get ready.

_And I want to twist their every patronizing thought about my shallow idiocy into a frothing mess. I want to see Sirius' face when I show him that I'm not broken. I want to _break _their little minds._

"I think I'll go," she said, tone fighting to be casual. When Severus sent a sharp look at her, she shifted uneasily. "What about you?"

"Yes," he sniffed. "Narcissa would kill me if I didn't. Not that… I would want to. Otherwise."

She rolled her eyes. "And Lucius wouldn't care."

He sighed and turned away. "I need to finish today's quota. I'll probably see you in the evening."

"I'll stay up," she responded dryly. "You'll need something to reduce those fumes from the potions."

"I _did_ choose this field."

Caelia shrugged. "The average lifespan for Master Potioneers is about sixty years." At his startled look, she shrugged again. "I checked after I found out that you got an apprenticeship."

His features shifted- looking almost _shocked?- _and then blanked.

"Thank you."

"For what?" She asked, with a snort that belied all the weight in his eyes.

And with that, they swept away into their separate areas of the house.

* * *

><p>The Prewett twins enjoyed the small shop she'd rented for them.<p>

It was clean, small with the promise of better prospects soon.

_("I hope this is to your enjoyment?" Caelia asked flatly. _

_The Prewetts didn't even need to look at each other. "It's perfect!")_

Potions ingredients hung in neat bunches off the ceiling- the herbs gave a slight spice to the air that livened the area- and were tucked into small jars on shelves. The floor was swept; the windows wiped; the opening-day sale registers ready.

_(Fabian asked, cautiously, why anyone would buy from their shop when the apothecary and Slug and Jiggers was right around the corner._

_Caelia smirked and handed him the brochure, pointing to a small statement in the corner. _

Complete discretion offered if required. With correct permits, need not be reported.

_Fabian grasped the words as the lifeline they were.)_

It was beyond rare that shops offered complete privacy- it was why few werewolves had access to Wolfsbane; beyond the stigma attached to the blood, if one wanted to _not _be sneered at, a werewolf couldn't afford to ask for the potion in the shops. It was also why so many people died in Potions accidents- for any slightly Dark potion it was _dangerous _to ask for it from official shops.

She was betting on a neutral customer base, but both Gideon and Fabian agreed that very few people would probably come...

So they were blown away when they made more than a month's revenue in less than a week.

* * *

><p><strong>Five Weeks Later:<strong>

Caelia looked at the mirror.

Dark hair was pulled up, falling in gentled curls around her face; the makeup was tastefully done- accentuating her classically beautiful structure and softening the harsh planes of her face.

The dress, however, was definitely not classical. Scandalous, at least to a pureblood, it hugged her body until the knees, where it flared out; the glittering blue-grey silk was richly arrayed, complementing her skin shade while the jewels passed the same message as every other carefully cultivated accessory.

"There's no room for pride in a slave," she whispered to her reflection. The woman staring back at her was a stranger; a mask as much as every other emotion she'd shown to Sirius and the Light. Eyes cold, face perfectly controlled, she rose to the hidden cabinet on the other side of the room.

_I look like I'm desperate. But… it's time to shatter Sirius' mind._

A small, carved box was all that was in the cabinet, and she picked it out. Snapping open the ornate lid, two glowing circlets of silver shone true, and Caelia smiled when she snapped them around her wrist.

Sirius wasn't the only one capable of manipulation-

-and the Lady Black bracelets, proving her own claim on the title- but better yet, disproving _Sirius' _claim of her betrayal- would say everything she couldn't.

Sweeping out of the room, she felt a vicious smile blossom on her lips.

"And it is a good thing… that I am not a slave.

* * *

><p><strong>1. Caelia knew the Longbottoms were in danger because she has been listening to Sirius and the Order for the better part of three years. She knows, vaguely, what's going on. However- she also has info on Voldemort. She knows what he wanted from them, too. When she saw Augusta, she realized the danger the Longbottoms were in. <strong>**Because of her life debt, once she knows about the danger, she needs to protect them.**

**2. Caelia and Severus didn't want to kill everyone. They wanted to kill _Crouch_, mainly because he had the connections to make life uncomfortable for them. Remember: they don't know how his dad, who's a prominent wizard with a _lot_ of influence, might react to this information. And- she's already killed the Lestrange brothers. Bellatrix is the only other witness who can tell the truth, but because of her reputation- crazed witch- she isn't that great of a threat.**

**3. Regulus didn't die because he didn't go after Voldy's horcruxes. Instead, he asked Caelia for help; she sent him to a Black manor in the countryside and forced him to hide for a couple months.**

**4. The wards on the Longbottom property are semi-sentient. They can tell the motivation for doing something- which is why they answered to Caelia but wouldn't have done so for the others. On the other hand, her life debt also gives her an 'in' to protect them; magic itself realizes her need and makes her a small part of their family, though not really.**

**In this chapter, some obscure references: The chapter title comes from Anne Lamott. Caelia, when she says that 'everyone grieves in different ways,' is a direct quote from Maria Snyder. 'There's no room for pride in a slave,' is a quote from _Antigone _by Sophocles. Yes, I think of Severus as an insomniac. And... Caelia loves Severus. Not as a lover, but as a brother. She won't ever think of him as more than that, I promise. **

**(Though there might or not be a kiss tomorrow. I'm not saying anything more on that.)**

**And- don't worry about Sirius. He isn't going to die.**

**I'm leaving it at that, and hoping you enjoy the rest of the fic!**

**Reviews inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	19. Chapter 19: the emptiest wonderland

The lights were too bright. Even as he moved through the crowd, he felt a vague flare of annoyance, and tamped it down with a deep swig of Cocoroco; magicals found it hard to get truly intoxicated- they built up a tolerance remarkably quickly- but this specific drink, imported from Bolivia, gave a pleasant enough buzz to his day.

…that it was _his _fault for drinking before the party wasn't exactly the point.

_Hmph. _He rolled the crystal glass delicately over his knuckles. _I can't believe she kicked me out!_

Caelia hadn't listened to any protests, though she had told him that she'd arrive at seven sharp. The smile on her face- it hadn't reassured him.

_Still. I'll be damned before I defend Black. He deserves everything she does tonight. And more- if it was anyone else the press battle would have been vicious._

_That Caelia isn't showing up for battle, though, is swaying more minds than I thought it would._

The crowd parted around him as he proceeded to a dark corner, and he scowled. The rest of the night promised to be boring, but just then a group of people swept in, and-

-his hands tightened around the glass, bloodless, when Lily floated in on James' arm. Two breaths later, it shattered, spilling scarlet drink all over his shoulders when Sirius walked in _with a Veela._

Outrage melded with a dangerous lack of sobriety, might have broken the pretty wonderland Narcissa had crafted so carefully, had Caelia not walked in that moment.

A marble statue might have held that look of cold, distant reserve- but Severus had never seen it on another human. Yet, Caelia… she carried it off naturally. Expertly commanding the entire ballroom's attention, but not acting arrogant-

-then he saw the circlets on her wrists, and felt like choking.

_Oh. I'm _so _glad that I'm here._

_Let the fireworks begin, Caelia. I have your back!_

* * *

><p>"Hello Lord Greengrass," she murmured, dipping into a perfect curtsy. People watched her from every end, and every muscle was held in flawless poise in response. "It is a pleasure to see you, especially after the loss of your brother- a grievous loss to your entire House, I'm sure."<p>

He smiled back, softly. She was doing everything properly; from appearance to elegance she turned glances her way. "It is indeed an honor, Lady Black." A significant look to her wrists- "especially after your husband acted so… _indecorously."_

"Of course. I am not his keeper, however. To answer for his- mistakes, as it were- is a task only the heedless or stupid will take upon themselves."

"Gryffindors, then?" Caelia laughed quietly and slanted her neck to the side; there were others she wanted to greet.

"Thank you, Lord Greengrass. I hope to see you… soon?"

With a bow, he disappeared.

* * *

><p>Shaking her head- and with it, the last vestiges of Occlumentic control- she felt her hands begin to shake. Control over her own emotions was few and far between, and Caelia wasn't ready to dance into another midst of strangers, charming and beguiling and stirring all at once.<p>

As much as she was _good _at deception, she didn't _like _it.

_But… there are changes that we need, in our society. We need a counterweight to the opposite forces of Dark and Light- they'll _never _get along, and sooner or later we'll all be destroyed. I don't want my children to inherit this centuries' old war; I doubt anyone does._

And the neutrals were the perfect place to begin.

Divided, they were weak. Decentralized. Together… she'd added up the numbers. If they could have a leader, then at least they'd have a _chance _at survival.

_But this isn't something achieved in an hour, or a day. It will take years… years of hard work towards a single goal._

_Welcome, _she thought dryly, _Caelia, to the game of kings._

Rolling her shoulders in a vain attempt to loosen the tensed muscles, she caught sight of Severus.

He stood in a corner, skulking behind a large plant. Mentally snickering at the view of him as a society flower, she slid towards him, avoiding those who would notice her with little more than a turn of her head- a flick of her hair there.

"Severus," she greeted warmly. He _twitched _when he heard her voice, but even as part of her wondered what could have shattered his usually unflappable demeanor, she smelled the sickly sweet scent of alcohol. Shock and confusion- Severus was never so unguarded- mixed into sharpness. "What were you _thinking!"_

This time, he positively leapt into the air, before leveling a finger at her. Worried, now, because it was rare, indeed, for him to only _glare- _especially when people frightened him- Caelia Vanished the wine from his robes.

"Don't- don' ge' in my way," he slurred back.

Plucking a shard of crystal from his hand- blood had stained it red- she sniffed. The fumes were strong- "_Cocoroco," _she asked incredulously.

Severus attempted a haughty look, but failed completely.

And she tried- she honestly _did- _but to see him so drunk was a priceless sight. Laughter spilled around them, and she gently sank to the floor, back pressed against the wall. "Cocoroco, Severus? _Really?"_

Sighing, she turned away when he didn't answer. Rectified spirits, such as cocoroco, were dangerous to muggles, but in wizards- who had a naturally higher metabolism- they were just highly addictive. And they also had a delayed response.

Reaching up, she tugged him down to her level, and began taking the glass pieces out of his arm. His hands would hurt like hell the next day, but at least he wouldn't be completely scarred for life. Vanishing them as she went, she began talking to distract him.

"It's so… _different, _Severus. I mean, look out there!" She waved to the dance floor, where it was obvious who belonged to which party. Lily Potter was the center of the Light, talking and commanding their attention. Narcissa was on the other end, holding court over the Dark.

And Neutrals swirled in small, dissatisfied pockets between them.

Her hands clenched into fists, and she pressed a finger against his wrist. "The divisions between us… I'm not sure if I can bridge it. But I have to _try!" _And it didn't hurt, she didn't add, that with the Dark weakened, they would likely join her instead of working against her.

"I need to talk to Lucius," she murmured. "If he can… assist me, I might be able to get in the Wizengamot. Despite the lack of a title."

The music shifted, then- classical to haunting. The melody hung in the air, like a spider's silk, and she felt her muscles stiffen in response. The dance floor emptied, of all people, until Narcissa and Lucius, and the Potters remained.

Two couples whirled around the floor, skirts flaring and hands twisting; Caelia felt something in her ache in response. Narcissa and Lucius were pale, mirrored images of diamond-hard beauty. Lily and James Potter were… dynamic, to say the least. They were _alive, _where the Malfoys were- not.

_Our differences, _she thought, verging on bittersweet. _Our definitions of _beauty _are separate. Our verily damned _definitions of beauty _are different._

_And I thought I could reconcile them._

She wrapped a hand around Severus' arm, and tried not to weep. _Abandon your dreams, Caelia. For they are nothing more than ashes on wind- blown away to nothingness._

_I wish I could do something more…_

Her eyes lowered, and she was almost tempted to get the house elves to give her some alcohol. Merlin knew she need it, but then-

-a hand clamped tightly on her shoulder, spinning her around and causing a whimper to burst from Severus' throat.

"You _whore," _Sirius spat in her face. She could smell firewhiskey on his breath, and felt her heart stop for a brief moment. "Are you enjoying making me look like a _fool?"_

_Oh Sirius, _she thought patronizingly, despite knowing that her features were frozen in half-shock, half-anger. _You have no _idea _how much I like to see you looking like a fool._

* * *

><p><strong>Cocoroco is an actual drink; it is highly distilled and illegal in many countries. That's everything for this chapter!<strong>

**Reviews inspire me. **

**-Dialux**


	20. Chapter 20: nothing cannot last forever

His hands _hurt. _Caelia wasn't sure if that was just because he was drunk, but she couldn't deny that there would be a bruise on her shoulder the next morning. Rage, shock, hurt… none of them came close to what she felt.

"Go to your newest… _fling, _Lord Black," she retorted, voice glacial. "I haven't-"

His hands tightened, impossibly, and she cut herself off in a futile attempt to bite back a hiss. "_Leave me alone," _she tried, but he didn't seem to notice.

Leaning forward, he loomed above her; his hands slid down across her arm in a mockery of a caress- Caelia couldn't bite back the reflexive shiver. Circling her wrist, his hand suddenly pressed against the fleshy- _weak, _she thought almost hysterically- underside.

"You're a filthy Slytherin slut," he hissed into her ear, and then slopped a kiss against her lips.

A maelstrom of anger and fear hardened into something cooler, harder. Pulling back slightly, she snapped her head forward in one smooth movement. Hunching over the hand- when he pressed like that it _hurt- _she breathed.

Once, to calm furious rage.

Twice, to relax her muscles.

Thrice, to flutter defiance into her lungs, and: "_Get off."_

Sirius' snarl sent warning signals down her spine, and three things happened at once:

Sirius stepped back, hand still clamped on her wrist-

-it snapped under the pressure; the gasp from her throat could not be choked off- not for anything in the world-

-and Severus pressed a wand into Sirius' back, appearing completely sober.

_"Let her go," _he bit out, voice rumbling low. Caelia almost melted in relief at the reassurance.

_But- how? He was drunk out of his mind… _Knowledge snapped into place, and she nearly smiled through the pain. _In dangerous times- when a wizard's magic is threatened, they respond instantly with a flare- unconsciously. He must have _burned _the alcohol straight out of his system!_

Sirius snarled again, and she was brought back to the land of the living. Yet- despite his rage- Severus' wand was pointed, and he wasn't fast enough the draw his own, not when so many people were around.

_Please, oh Merlin, please, let me go, I'm not…_

The frozen scene might have continued- Severus could kill Sirius, but at such a close range Caelia would surely be injured as well. Above that, he was probably fighting a hangover from hell, and…

She didn't know what would have happened had Narcissa not appeared in that moment.

Blue eyes narrowed on them, she asked sharply, "What is going on here?"

"Narcissa," Sirius slurred- but she didn't answer. Focusing on the hand still captured in his grip- and the expression of absolute blankness on Caelia's face, not to mention Severus' furious glare- she raised her own wand.

"Come on. I think we need to _talk."_

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, Sirius was under a plethora of knock-out potions, and Severus was nursing a cup of tea spiked with a hangover remedy. Caelia's hand was healed, but still wrapped in bandages.<p>

"Sirius broke your hand."

Caelia nodded slowly. Flicking her hand- the uninjured one- she dragged her own tea closer to her. "I know… It's rare for purebloods to physically abuse one another." A light shrug that rustled the cloth, though her eyes were closed- "I don't think he meant to do what he did. He was _drunk. _I can't…"

She didn't know why she was defending him, honestly. Sirius was an idiot, and she hated him- now more than ever. Still… he was- not _innocent- _but not completely _guilty _either, so-

"I'll see him _buried _under the press battle." Narcissa sounded murderous. "How dare he! You haven't done a _damn _thing, Caelia! He's the wrong one here, and you better watch him grovel for mercy before taking him back!"

"Don't bother," she said airily, hand waving away her outrage. "I've decided to get a divorce."

_And… that is the silence of the shocked._

The speechless silence spiraled on; the weight pressed down on all of them like a storm's primary front.

Sipping the tea, she let her eyes drift down, warmth lulling her into a sort-of sleep.

"And _why _aren't you drinking wine with that?" Narcissa asked flatly. "I'd think-"

Caelia winced. "I can't," she mumbled into the mug. Looking up, she grimaced, avoiding her eyes. "Nobody knows, so-"

"I don't believe this. Yo- you're _pregnant?" _Her eyes widened, shock painting it almost-grey. "On top of everything _else?"_

Both women ignored the sudden, choked sound from the corner.

"You sound horrified," she muttered, though she looked entertained.

Narcissa twitched. "I am." Shaking her head, she continued, "is it at least _Sirius'?"_

Caelia nodded. Narcissa slumped over in relief. "And he doesn't know?"

"He's clearly unfit to be a father. I'll see him dead under my wand before I let him close to Cassia, much less the other one." Her voice tightened, slightly. "He deserves that and more."

An interminable amount of time later, Caelia finished the mug. Putting it down, she swiveled over and looked at Narcissa.

The younger woman just looked back, porcelain-perfect mask still in place. "What is it," she finally asked, irritated.

"Nothing. Just… Andromeda. She didn't mean to hurt you, you know. When she left. But the sacrifice for her- to marry Lucius- would have meant losing you anyhow. At least with her gone… she could have her happiness, and you could have yours." Caelia leaned her head back. "Maybe not together, but you'd be happy."

"And how do you know this?"

"She was part of the Order," she said quietly. "We became friends, of a sort. After all- Slytherins. Who would trust us?"

The shrug was deceptively uncaring, but the scars it pulled open were still raw. There were only so many times before anger could deny the hurt; the Order had sown its own destruction when they'd betrayed the very ideals Albus Dumbledore swore he espoused.

_Tolerant, are you? You had three Slytherins in the Order. Me, Andromeda, and Severus. Two of us by marriage, and one by love… what _tolerance _did you try for in your own vigilante group, Dumbledore? What did you say that could have made us more content?_

A toneless chuckle pulled her attention to Narcissa. "Andy left us all."

"So she could make her own happiness. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Caelia-"

"No." Caelia rose, brushing off the wrinkles in her skirt with ease. "This is getting ridiculous, Cissy. She loves you- you love her, I know you do. The sisterly bond doesn't fade quite so quickly, I swear. And… you aren't your ideals. Love Andromeda _despite _her difference, not hate her _because _of it."

"I-"

She shook her head. "We'll be going home. The party's almost finished, I suspect? I think you need to think some things over." A gentle touch against the back of her neck, and she was gone.

Narcissa remained frozen in the study for a long, long time. Lucius entered a few hours later, and saw the blank expression on her face; stepping forward to embrace her, he was stunned when she dissolved into tears.

"Am I-" she whispered into his chest, "am I my beliefs, Lucius?"

He smiled gently down at his beautiful wife, and pressed a hand against her scalp, undoing the up-do she'd sported all day. "Of course not, love."

The two of them remained like that for a long time that night.

* * *

><p><strong>So... this is chapter 20! Hope y'all enjoyed the previous 'ball' chapters. This is the last one on the sense, and I'm going to be wrapping this arc up soon. There are only about four-five more chapters (less if I get some time) in this fic.<strong>

**As to reasons why I'm not simply incorporating Caelia Books 2, 3, and 4 into this one:**

**I wanted to keep this fic relatively quick and small, just laying a foundation for certain concepts that I will build on later. Also, there are time jumps associated with each book. The main characters are different; Cassia will play a major role soon. The next fic will be about her first year. And don't worry- the lack of action in this fic doesn't mean that there will be a lack in the next one. In fact, because the outlines are finished for books 2 and 3, I can say that there will be a lot more action than expected!**

**Other than that, random facts from this chapter: magic, in my opinion, is like an extra energy (a force, if you will) that allows certain people to manipulate the items around them in such a manner. Like... someone who can control energy output. That's why, when someone (e.g. Severus) feels like they're in danger, the magic 'flares' around them and burns the alcohol out of their system. Chapter title is a play on _American Gods, _by Neil Gaiman- I think? It's been a long time since I read that book...**

**Reviews inspire me!**

**-Dialux**


	21. Chapter 21: and so it goes

Caelia led Severus to a small bench outside, the cool winter air washing over their faces. Black Manor's walls curved around them, hiding them from the rest of the world for a few brief, precious moments.

"To a new year," she whispered. "May it be prosperous and… calm."

Severus leaned his head back, a black shadow against the darkened walls. "You don't want it to be interesting?" He asked dryly.

She shook her head, then winced at the pain. "Merlin, no. If I could live my whole life without this kind of… action, I would choose it in a heartbeat." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me you _wouldn't?"_

"Like hell. Going to Azkaban once was enough, thanks."

She laughed back, tipping her head against the cold bench lazily. It was freezing outside, the snow covering both path and field in a coat of steel-white, but her skin felt warm inside her cloak and gloves. "I just wish I could believe we'd have it. You-Know-Who isn't gone; your arm is still Marked. But I think… we'll have a few years for now. Of tranquility, I mean."

"That's all I've ever wanted," Severus replied. "More than revenge, though. I always wanted to bring down Potter and Black, and if you get your divorce, I won't have to worry about you getting caught in all that trouble."

"Calmness isn't revenge," she said wryly.

"Not to _you," _he shot back immediately.

She could stay there forever, lost in white drizzles of ice and glitter and beauty. Her best friend was at one side, her daughter was asleep, and the world beyond didn't exist for the time.

_Perfection is overrated. You make your own happiness, not find it. _Lifting her eyes to trace the path of the spiraling snowflakes, she remembered: each snowflake was unique, carved through a ten-thousand foot fall. _I will not make that mistake again, of letting others fight my battles for me._

_I thought we were fools, once upon a time._

_Perhaps it is time to change the world's perception of myself, as well as my own._

* * *

><p>The next day, Caelia spoke to Lucius about becoming a Wizengamot member.<p>

A week later, she entered the august body.

A month later, she gave birth to twins.

Ten years later, she watched her daughter go to Hogwarts.

(And the world was never the same again.)

* * *

><p><strong>And that is a wrap, people. I wanted to drag this out over a couple more chapters, but the words wouldn't flow, and it didn't feel right to me to <em>make <em>you guys suffer through the boring-ness of a lack of writing drive.**

**No, this has nothing to do with the fact that I had two chapters written out on my computer that were erased when it crashed last week. What made you think that? *looks aside guiltily***

**Also- next fic starts right before Cassia goes to Hogwarts. A couple things you probably need to know by then:**

**1. Narcissa and Andromeda are reconciled; Nymphadora and Draco and Cassia are good friends/close cousins. They were home-schooled by a mix of Caelia (who is a formidable Wizengamot member) Narcissa, Severus, Regulus, and Andromeda. **

**2. Sirius didn't fight the divorce, and Cassia and her two younger siblings, Vivian and Orpheus, are completely under Caelia's guardianship. Regulus is Vivian's godfather; Severus is Orpheus'.**

**3. Harry is close friends with Ron from before Hogwarts, and has a younger sister named Helena.**

**4. The Horcruxes have been hunted by Caelia and Severus; Severus begins to teach at Hogwarts sometime after Tonks goes to Hogwarts. Caelia's shop in Diagon takes off.**

**5. Dumbledore and Caelia are political enemies.**

**That's all I can think of... I'll see you Tuesday with the next fic:**

_**Falling Stars, and Breaking Traditions**_

**Hope you guys enjoyed this ride, and I promise the next one is going to be longer, wilder, and funnier!**

**Reviews inspire me.**

**-Dialux**


	22. Chapter 22: epilogue

**Hello all of my readers:**

**This fic is complete. I am announcing the presence of the ****_next _****fic in this series, known as ****_Falling Stars, and Breaking Traditions. _****A short excerpt from the fifteenth chapter- **

"Nice." She whirled around, wand sliding into her hand and only _just _stopping from cursing the upstart into Voldemort's hands. "Nice," she said grimly. "I am not _nice, _Lady Potter. I have never claimed to _be _nice. That you thought so is _your _problem, not mine."

Lily looked close to tears. "Tell me what I've done wrong!"

"You were born." Caelia hissed, beyond all control. "Did you think it was for any other reason?"

"I _helped _you!"

"Yes."

"I thought you were _different!" _Lily shouted.

Caelia advanced. "And what notice have you given me, that _you _are different? That you are different from all the forbears who bear your _name!" _She shuddered slightly, then forced out, "That name you call an insult."

Lily was pale in rage. "How can Mudblood be anything but?"

**Hope you guys enjoyed this excerpt, and I'll be looking forward to hearing from y'all in that fic!**

**-Dialux**


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